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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29243298">Did My Heart Love Till Now?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bread_Bird/pseuds/Bread_Bird'>Bread_Bird</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, Copious Romeo and Juliet references, Does it count as a high school AU if the canon is technically a high school AU, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Incest left ambiguous, Korekiyo's sister referred to as Miyadera, M/M, Most of the ships are just background, Multi, Mutual Pining, Physical Abuse, Sharing a Bed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:36:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,072</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29243298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bread_Bird/pseuds/Bread_Bird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I had an idea for a jock x theater kid Amaguji fic at midnight about two weeks ago, and this is the product of that. Enjoy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akamatsu Kaede/Saihara Shuichi, Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a disclaimer: </p>
<p>Things I have never participated in: Hockey, theater<br/>Things Rantaro and Korekiyo are into, respectively: Hockey, theater<br/>I also had to write this with the knowledge of the American high school experience I had, so sorry for any inaccuracies! Please enjoy! </p>
<p>Once again, everyone thank @tokomaruz for putting up with my bullshit</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was the week before opening night of the winter play, and metaphorically, Korekiyo was in hell. Literally, he was standing in the school’s auditorium, watching their lead actor bust through the railing of the balcony that Angie had spent weeks on, but that in and of itself may as well have been a fiery pit of damnation with all the implications of the scene.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Romeo and Juliet had been the easy choice when the show had been picked out. Quite a few new faces had joined the cast and crew, and it was being done in some of the literature classes anyway, so they might as well go with a classic, something that people would already know. Auditions were done, cast lists went out, and everything was set into motion smoothly. As per the usual, Korekiyo was set up to be the stage manager (not like he wanted to perform anyway), and the new cast was not making the job easy on him. Two of their leads, Oma and Saihara acting as Romeo and Benvolio respectively, couldn’t quite seem to take their jobs seriously. Korekiyo had a hunch that neither of them really wanted to be there, but then again, one of the most dedicated members of the crew didn’t, either. Iruma, one of Korekiyo’s acquaintances, was there exclusively for the fine art credit, constantly bitching about the workload and the rehearsals, but at least she put in the work. The rest of the cast was hard working enough, if not a bit dramatic, but the energy was… a lot, at times. Especially now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo had watched the entire thing unfold, right as he turned around from a conversation with Shirogane about a costume issue. Kokichi had been at the top of Juliet’s tower, right on the balcony, leaning precariously over the edge. He was waving, a piece of fabric clutched tight in his hand as he yelled down onto the stage, “Oh, Shuiiiiichi! Look what I’ve got!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shuichi spun right around from the conversation he had been having with Kaede, their dear Juliet, taking a moment to locate Kokichi. “Wha- Kokichi, is that part of my costume?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shorter boy let out a downright evil laugh, bouncing lightly on the prop. Korekiyo watched it shake, and as he opened his mouth to speak, Kokichi just got louder. “Yes! You gotta come up here and get it from me if you want it, or else I’m keeping it forever!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kokichi, the weight of that prop won’t support more than one-” Angie yelled up at him from her spot on the floor, painting some details in the stone, but it was too late. One of the bounces finally seemed to affect the balcony, and there was a slight crack before the railing came crashing down, taking Kokichi screaming to the floor right with it. The moment he landed flat on his face, the auditorium went dead silent. Angie was wide eyed, but certainly didn’t look shocked, at least not as shocked as Korekiyo had expected her to. No one moved a muscle, staring at the now broken balcony and their classmate lying on the floor. Barely a few seconds into their silence, though, Kokichi sat right back up, looking completely uninjured. He shook his hair out, then started laughing again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woo, little bit of a rush there! Don’t worry, everyone, I’m just in indescribable agony, I’ll die and be out of your hair eventually,” when no one laughed, Kokichi looked over at Korekiyo, and he could have sworn he saw Kokichi, ever cocky and bold, pale. “Wh-What’s that look for, Kiyo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo didn’t realize how pissed he looked. He never really did; he was acutely aware of how people perceived him, but none of that really mattered. He didn’t have to fix anything. Right now, though, he was glad that he had never done anything about it, because he was really, truly, mad at Kokichi. “Hasn’t the cast been told a thousand times not to play on the balcony, Oma?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shit, that’s really creepy,” Kokichi muttered, sinking in on himself. “Yeah. We have. I just didn’t care, I didn’t expect it to snap like that or anything… or I broke it intentionally. You’ll never know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I find out that you broke it intentionally, I will be seeing what I can do about ejecting you from this and all future shows. Now Angie has to stay late and fix your mistakes, one week before we premiere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Kokichi’s eyes immediately started welling up with tears. “Y-You’d do that to me? The lead of the show? But I’m such a good actor, Kiyo, you wouldn’t!” Before Korekiyo knew what was going on, Kokichi was bawling, his body wracked with sobs as he did. No one really looked concerned, though; this was a fairly common occurrence. Say what you want about Kokichi, but he was right about being a good actor. He had earned that role, even if he was a royal pain in Korekiyo’s ass. Meanwhile, though, Angie raised her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiyo? Angie actually can’t stay late tonight. I have some business to attend to, you know, family worship and such. I can fix it tomorrow, though!” she yelled over Kokichi’s wailing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have rehearsal tomorrow. We have to have the balcony fixed before we can start… so I suppose that means that I’ll stay after and fix it,” Korekiyo sighed softly, starting backstage to get to the other side of the tower. “The rest of you are dismissed, please be here on time tomorrow so that we may rehearse effectively.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kokichi was the first one up off the floor, perfectly fine once again. “Oh, really? Great, see you tomorrow!” and without another word, he vaulted himself off of the stage and out of the auditorium. Everyone else left, slowly but surely, leaving Kiyo with a goodbye and the occasional snide comment about Kokichi as they walked out of the auditorium. Eventually, Korekiyo was left to his devices, not quite sure where to start on the prop. It upset him that it was broken, the railing laying splintered on the floor, but there was no use in just letting it sit while he planned. He hauled the surprisingly heavy wood back up onto the balcony, careful not to fall through the floor, and settling down right where he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While he worked, doing his best to figure out the construction that Angie had done here, he thought about what Kokichi had said. He tried not to pay him any mind; the young man was a liar, an attention whore at best, so his words don't usually have much heed. However, though, it was Kokichi calling him a creep that brought back a not unusual pattern of thinking for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo wasn’t unaware of the effect that he had on people. He heard the whispers in the hallways, saw the way some people looked at him as he spoke. It may have been the outfit, he often concluded. He wore similar outfits every day, hand stitched by his older sister, Miyadera. She was his legal guardian ever since his parents left the picture, and with her illness, Korekiyo didn’t mind wearing the things that she made if it meant her being happy. It may have been the mask; it wasn’t often that someone wore a mask every day of their life and was never seen without it. He had moved to the district after he started wearing it, so not a single person in the school had ever seen him without it on. People had tried to take it off, people had failed. It could have been his fairly loose relation to gender, it could have been his passion for his favorite and often macabre topics of conversation, or he could have been, just, at his core, creepy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This feeling of almost ostracization, like someone watching a society from the outside, wasn’t due to a lack of trying on Korekiyo’s part. Theoretically, he was good with people. He knew everything he had to say and do to befriend them, but it simply didn’t seem to work; he lacked a certain charm, someone had once told him, and that wouldn’t really change. He was an honors student, he dedicated himself to tutoring those who needed it, and he involved himself in clubs including, but not limited to, theater, student government, the school’s GSA, and a club involving in-depth discussions on various historical events each week, sort of like a book club. There were only five members in that last one, but it was easily his favorite. Regardless, he put himself out there. He tried his best to socialize, to make himself ‘popular’ from a logistical standpoint, but he just ended up well known more than anything else. He was just some goth theater kid to a lot of people, but that was… fine. No real friends, just acquaintances, gave him more time for his extracurriculars. It gave him more time to take care of Miyadera in her declining health. It was a lonely existence, sure, but he had history and the theoretical study of people, of humanity, and he had Miyadera to keep him company through it all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo lost track of time while he worked. He often did; he found busywork entertaining, but he didn’t know how late it had gotten as he did his best to fix the balcony’s railing. A clap of thunder eventually snapped him out of his stupor, and he jumped. Looking up at the clock, dots swimming over his vision for just a moment, he realized it was almost five in the evening. He had been at this for a while, and it still wasn’t done. Damn. Across the auditorium, though, he heard the doors swing open, and, hopeful that someone had come back to help, Korekiyo quickly got down the stairs from the balcony and hurried over to the doors. Once he got there, a silhouette, dripping wet with the lamplight illuminating their figure from behind could be seen. Korekiyo took a breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That wasn’t one of the crew. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rantaro sighed as he stepped out of the locker room, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Hockey practice had run long today, and he had already walked to school today. Glancing out the window of the hallway, he could see that it was dark out. And raining. Great. He sighed, but started walking down the hall, pulling an application from his bag as he did. He had been trying to work through the sheet for a while now, but there was one thing he continually got caught up on: community service.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro was a good student. He got decent grades, nothing below Cs unless he was really struggling, and he considered himself to be fairly well liked. He had a job for a while until his hockey schedule interfered, and he had plenty of friends, but he didn’t find himself involved in many clubs or community service projects. It made him feel a bit self centered on occasion, but when you got busy, you got busy, you know? Staring at the paper, he heard a voice behind him. “College form?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jumped, crumpling the application by accident. Damn. With a sigh, he turned and started walking backwards, a slow, leisurely amble onwards. Behind him was Kirumi, Maki, and the voice from just a second prior, Ryoma. “You guys don’t always have to sneak up on me like that, you know, and yeah, it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You weren’t paying attention anyway,” Ryoma replied, falling into line with him as he walked. Cold as ever, Rantaro noticed. He knew there was some bitterness there, not towards him, but it was still evident in his every action. Rantaro didn’t know if it was because of his expulsion from that fancy private academy or what, but he was doing his best to be his friend, to force him into the limelight a little over time. “What’s the problem with it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Community service. It’s kind of late to be considering it now, but it’ll look really good… I can’t run off of my grades or hockey, I’m not awesome at either. Anyway, hey, Kirumi, hey, Maki. How are you two doing today?” looking up from the sheet of paper he was trying to smooth out, he smiled at the both of them. He got one back from Kirumi- of course he did, she was Kirumi- but not one from Maki. That wasn’t out of the ordinary, either. Maki had always been a bit closed off, but the calm and the quiet she had most of the time was pretty nice for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you need community service, Rantaro, I have plenty of opportunities I can recommend to you. I also implore you not to talk down about yourself; clearly, your coaches saw something within you if they decided to make you captain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, but this is coming from you, Kirumi. What do you run again? Student council, student government, a bajillion other clubs? C’mon, you of all people know how easy it is to land a position like that, especially when I don’t have to write a speech for mine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want her help or not?” Ryoma interjected, glancing up at the taller boy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro held his hands up in mock defense. “Hey, hey, cool it! I was getting there, can’t be too straightforward or anything. Now that it’s been brought up, though, I would appreciate the opportunities, Kirumi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. I usually prefer to keep them to myself, as I find joy in helping others, but it would be selfish not to help a friend in need,” with that, Kirumi reached into her backpack and pulled out what had to be a three inch thick binder, stretched to the limits of its hooks. “Now, let’s see… I have these organized by type of work, then alphabetically. What would you like to try first?” Rantaro, meanwhile, was lost as hell the second the binder came out. Kirumi hadn’t even started giving him options yet, and he already felt stifled. There was a whole world out in front of him, one he could go explore and live in and experience if he just got through the education part-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you try the drama department?” Maki must have noticed the look on Rantaro’s face, because she spoke up before he did. Kirumi, who had been leafing through the binder, suddenly paused and looked over at the other girl with a bit of shock on her usually stoic face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryoma didn’t seem nearly as impressed. “The drama department? What do they have?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The show’s in a week. They always have something go wrong, or they need more people to move props,” now under everyone’s gaze, Maki started to scrunch in on herself defensively. “...My boyfriend’s there. He talks about it a lot, and there’s probably something you can do to help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Maki! What’s he like, who is he, do I have to go all big brother on him and beat him up?” Rantaro teased, turning to face forward again and nudging her with his shoulder. In his peripherals, he could see her puff out her cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you wanna die? Just take the job,” she immediately took a step back by Kirumi, glaring at Rantaro. He chuckled softly, but Ryoma at his side was still skeptical on his behalf.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t the stage manager kinda creepy, Harukawa? Like, skulls on his backpack creepy?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. I don’t know who the stage manager is, and even if I did, I doubt I would talk to him anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Kirumi put her binder back in her backpack, “you must be talking about Korekiyo. He’s often a deterrent for the department, I know, but he’s efficient and quite the fascinating person to talk to… a bit tone deaf, maybe, but he tries very hard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro had heard that name before. A new-ish arrival, the middle of seventh grade, and immediately picked off as a goth kid stereotype. He had heard people talking about him for years, saying some not so nice things, but he had never really talked to him. He saw him in the halls, knew he was an active part of the school, but something had always just… kept him away. He didn’t know if it was physical, or if he never got a chance to talk to him in general, but he knew virtually nothing about him. There was, however, one thing about Korekiyo that stuck out in his mind, something he had heard for years, but Maki beat him to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean the bathroom seance guy? Shinguji? That Korekiyo?” That was it. There had been a rumor for years that Korekiyo had started a seance in the bathroom after the fire alarm went off. Candles had been found on the floor, still burning, along with some black salt and some chalk. No one ever got Korekiyo to admit to it, but that was just the widely accepted truth of the school. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Yes. That’s the one, however, he has denied ever performing a seance on school grounds,” Kirumi remained absolutely calm. She had to know about it, and she was coming to his defense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah. Clearly, he didn’t perform it, he had to get outside because the fire alarm went off,” Ryoma retorted, stopping his walk to let his back hit a set of lockers. He leaned against them, arms crossed. “If getting possessed is your prerogative, go for it, kid. Just be careful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww, you do have a heart under there!” Rantaro grinned, and the shorter boy pulled his hat down a little further towards his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just go do what you have to. It’s getting late, and if you wait much longer, you’re going to miss him.” Rantaro paused. Glancing down at his phone screen, he saw that it was just about 5pm. He didn’t have a curfew or anything, but Ryoma was right, and he should get home before it got too dark anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, shoot, you’re right. See you guys later, I guess! Wish me luck!” Without waiting for a response, Rantaro started walking off down the hall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you not want the other options?” Kirumi asked with a frown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can send me some, but hopefully, I’ll make it in good with him, and I won’t have to worry about it!” A crack of thunder spurred Rantaro into further action, and he turned and started running down the hall. His shoes squeaked beneath him, sliding on the tile until he hit the door open with his shoulder. It was pouring down rain outside, the only thing lighting the campus being the street lamps. There was a thick haze over the area, and with how dark it was, he was shocked that he could see anything at all. “Just a bit of rain,” he muttered to himself, and he sprinted out into the cold, rainy evening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rain was, in fact, not just rain. There was a bit of ice mixed into it, and as Rantaro ran, it pelted on his face and soaked through his shirt. He was sure half of his notebooks were ruined by now, but it’s not like he wouldn’t have ended up here anyway. He kept running, soaked down to the bone by the time he managed to find the auditorium doors. Taking a moment to catch his breath as he stopped under the ledge, the one dry place for several yards in any direction, he leaned against the wall, trying to steel himself. He had no reason to be scared; whatever Shinguji was like, he was sure he was plenty nice. They had never even confirmed that he was the one to do the seance, or that it was a seance at all, right? Maybe he was just some normal guy who liked dressing a bit odd. Whatever it was, he would be safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Rantaro pushed the door of the auditorium open, standing in the light for just a moment. He noticed a few things; a massive tower, how empty the auditorium felt, the stage lights casting eerie shadows across the stage, and, moments later, he saw a person, drifting out from behind the curtain in an almost elegant gait. As they got closer, their features came into view, and-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro’s heart stopped in the very best way possible.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Korekiyo barely recognized Amami in the light. He had heard of him before, who hadn’t by this point; quite the jock, he supposed, and damn near every girl in the school wanted a piece. He had never really seen him, though. Hockey wasn’t his thing, nor was he ever actively pursuing romance in a school setting. Seeing him now, though, dripping, panting, out of breath… well, he was certainly a picture, alright. Korekiyo stood there for a moment, completely stunned as the other boy looked up at him from his spot on the doorway. Even with the shadows overtaking his form now, Korekiyo could see a glimmer in his eye as their gazes locked on one another, and his own voice caught in his throat, just for a moment, before he realized just how odd he must have looked. “You look cold,” he remarked, swallowing his momentary infatuation. “You’re more than welcome to come inside if you’re waiting for a ride or a friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Rantaro was floundering for the right words himself. He hadn’t expected Shinguji to be nearly as pretty as he was. Rantaro had girls asking him out all the time, from the library-dwellers to the cheerleaders, but standing here, staring at him… he was stunned. He was wearing what looked like a handmade button up and pants with a black mask, but even that seemed to compliment his face more than hide it. The guy that everyone had been calling a creep for years was undeniably stunning, at least to him. Maybe he had the wrong person. “Uh.. that’s not what I’m here for, actually. Is Shinguji still here, or did I miss him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re looking for me, then?” Korekiyo cocked his head to the side. He could feel his hands clamming up behind his back. “I’m right here. Come inside regardless, please.” With a sigh of relief, Amami stepped inside, dropping his bag and a soaked letterman jacket by the door when it closed. Despite the weather, he was wearing a t-shirt underneath, and Korekiyo could make out every bit of muscle definition in his arms. “I don’t believe we’ve ever formally met. My name is Korekiyo Shinguji, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rantaro Amami, same to you. I wanted to talk to you about something, my friend suggested that I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what might that be?” Gods, he wanted to speak to him? It wasn’t uncommon, people usually needed him for favors, but maybe he wanted to be friends or something, maybe this was-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need community service hours for an application, I was wondering if I could get any here?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>Korekiyo’s heart cracked, just a bit. Damn, there goes that idea. “I’m afraid we don’t have any opportunities for that at the moment. We’re only a week from the show, and I managed to really get us on track this year. I sincerely apologize, Amami.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Ah… shit. Well, can’t blame a guy for trying,” he chuckled softly, leaning against the wall. He ran a hand through his wet hair. “You’re sure there isn’t anything I can do to help you? It seems kind of like a waste of a trip, and I wanna wait for the rain to die down a bit anyway.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, no, I don’t think-” Korekiyo paused. He didn’t want him to leave yet, not after they had just met. Scrambling for something to keep him there, his mind suddenly drifted back to the wrecked balcony behind him. It was all there artistically, but he had yet to get it back in place, and with the mechanisms Angie had used, he would likely have to use force to do so, force that he definitely didn’t have. “Actually, do you consider yourself to be rather strong? Or good with carpentry?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I took woodshop and I can lift a fairly decent amount, why?” the other boy raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need some help getting a railing back in place. Our lead broke it today, and while I had the artistic ability to get it to look right again, I can’t put it back. Would you be so kind as to assist me? It wouldn’t really count as community service, but you would be making me happy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo could see the slight upturn of Amami’s lips as he spoke, and he pushed himself off the wall right as Korekiyo finished speaking. “I’d be happy to help. We can keep each other company, it sounds pretty nice.” Was he… flirting with him? Korekiyo couldn’t tell, it’s not like he had anything to go off of, anyway. “Lead the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Acutely aware of the very handsome, very popular boy following behind him, Korekiyo walked back to the stage, taking a seat on the floor in front of the tower. “There’s a staircase in the back, feel free to climb and repair at your leisure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Side note, kind of a weird thing to say, your posture is amazing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Thank you,” Korekiyo could feel his cheeks heating up ever so slightly underneath his mask, and he tugged at the collar of his shirt as Amami went up to the top of the tower and started examining the railing. The two fell into a brief silence, Korekiyo trying and failing to make his staring as minimally creepy as he possibly could, but it must have gotten to Amami eventually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you actually do that seance in the bathroom?” he blurted out, then slapped a hand over his mouth. “That was super careless of me, I’m so sorry, oh my god.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have heard about that, then.” Korekiyo pursed his lips. “No. I have never performed a seance on school property, nor do I believe that a seance was performed on that day. I don’t mind the question, it’s fairly common.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah… well, I feel kinda dumb now,” Amami chuckled awkwardly, still making an effort on the railing as he did. “Good to know that you had no involvement in that incident.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No involvement? I never said that much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” he looked almost shocked, peering over his work at Korekiyo. “So you did do something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said I have never performed a seance on school grounds. I have attempted, and that was an attempt, but I was… unsuccessful. It wasn’t for me, either, a classmate from one of my clubs found the ritual in a book I recommended them, and they wanted to use it to contact their deceased relative, however, I am often not allowed out of the house for non-school related activities, so my options were bathroom or leave them to suffer, and… oh, I’m rambling, aren’t I? You don’t need to know all of that,” he finished bashfully, finally looking back up at Amami once he was done speaking. His gaze had drifted downward at some point, he didn’t know when, but, to his shock, Amami was leaning on the unbroken part of the railing, appearing genuinely interested. Had he been watching him as he spoke this whole time? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can keep talking, if you want to. I wouldn’t mind hearing about it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s… pretty much it, I suppose. Now I’m just sort of the ‘goth’ kid that everyone knows for accidentally setting off the fire alarm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, hey,” Amami shrugged, turning back to the railing, “as someone also only known for one thing, that’s a pretty cool thing to be known for. I mean, I’m kinda just the hot hockey player, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not an untrue observation,” Korekiyo replied, then, to quickly cover it up, “but I’m sure you have other redeeming traits that make you plenty likeable in other ways as well.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amami looked down at him once more. “Did you just admit that I’m hot? Like, I know, but you’re pretty bold, aren’t you? At least tell me some things about you first,” he teased. Korekiyo was blushing furiously underneath his mask, nose scrunched up. He had no idea how to handle himself right now, and he was praying that Rantaro couldn’t tell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… I-I participate in a few clubs, I’m an honors student, I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shinguji, I said about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Not your accomplishments, I’ve heard about those, and I bet you have value beyond that, too. I’ll go first, just as an example. Uh…” somehow, as he was looking up at the ceiling, thinking, Amami managed to push the railing back into place, then immediately let it support his weight.  “My favorite color is navy blue. I like nature, and exploring, and I think the idea of extraterritoriality is cool. I don’t like driving very much, but I’ll do it if I have to. My ideal date is ice skating and cuddling in front of a fire afterwards.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is the ideal date part for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who knows?” Amami grinned, putting a fist under his chin to hold it up. “Anyway, I finished. You wanna come check my handiwork?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If that’s alright. You have to come down, first, though.” Without a word, Amami got off the balcony, Korekiyo heading towards the staircase. As they passed by one another, a rather tight squeeze, their arms brushed, and Korekiyo felt every single hair on his arm stand up as he continued to the top of the tower, sitting tense and flustered on the balcony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Below him, Amami settled himself on the floor, taking the space to sprawl out on his back. “Alright, now, your turn, if you’re comfortable with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose I am… My favorite color is green. I take interest in anthropology and knot tying, and I would rather sleep in a tent than in a house. I’m not quite sure what my ideal date is, I’ve never truly been on one.” Korekiyo was subtly fidgeting with the buttons on his sleeves as he tried to maintain eye contact with the other boy. He usually prided himself on his ability to keep cool in tough situations, but something about him was just making him nervous. It wasn’t necessarily in a bad way, but it was making his heart run wild in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve never been on a date? Seriously?” Amami had looked like he was going to ask a million different questions as Korekiyo spoke, but he somehow, some way, landed on that one. Korekiyo immediately bristled, his shoulders going up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I derive no shame from that fact, thank you very much, and I don’t see why it’s any of your concern-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lemme be your first.” Korekiyo froze. He couldn’t even bring himself to be mad that Amami interrupted him, he was too stunned to move, and after a few moments, he realized he was forgetting to breathe. When Korekiyo didn’t say anything, just stared, dumbfounded, Amami took it as an invitation to elaborate. “Lemme be your first date. Romantic, platonic, I don’t care, but we can call it a date and we can go out and do whatever you want. It’s criminal that you of all people have never been on one. You don’t have goth chicks falling all over you, left and right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… no. I don’t. I tend to be odd by the standards of most women. I think I’ll accept your proposal, though, there is one night this week that I can get away from the play…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect!” Amami lit up. Gods, he was handsome. “I’ll give you my number when I come back down, then we can sort it out properly. Speaking of the play, what show are you guys doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relieved, Korekiyo finally allowed himself to relax once again. Hesitantly, he put a hand behind him and leaned against it. “Romeo and Juliet. This is the tower for the balcony scene.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The balcony scene?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you unfamiliar? But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh,” Amami pushed himself to sit up again, “it kinda sounds familiar. Could you keep going, jog my memory a little?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I’m not really an actor, Amami.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nonsense. C’mon, you know the lines, right? I don’t care how nice they sound, I just can’t remember what scene you’re talking about,” Korekiyo once again went silent, and Amami frowned. “Please? I won’t push you or anything if you’re really uncomfortable with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I get rather anxious onstage. There’s a reason I prefer my managerial position. My apologies.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amami sighed softly, standing up. Korekiyo felt a pang of disappointment in his chest, assuming that he was leaving, but that’s when he pulled out his phone, typed a few words, and started to speak again, staring at it all the while. “Let’s see… ‘</span>
  <span>O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head as is a winged messenger of heaven’...” Not long after he began, his voice trailed off, and Korekiyo just sat there, stunned. That was the right line, alright, one of Romeo’s as he spoke to Juliet up on the balcony, but he couldn’t even remotely wrap his head around the why. Nevertheless, in the bright stage lights, sitting in the tower with what was easily one of the most handsome men he had ever met monologuing to him, he almost understood the young love of the couple, ever tragic and immortalized.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amami, I swear-” he murmured, only for Amami to interrupt him with a smirk, scrolling through his phone again for a moment before landing on what he wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, do not swear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo huffed, standing back up on shaky legs. He had checked the balcony well enough, he decided, it looked fine at a glance and it appeared sturdy enough. “That’s not even one of Romeo’s lines!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t?” the other boy cocked his head to the side as Korekiyo came down to stand in front of him again. “Oh, shit, that does say Juliet, doesn’t it? I’m honestly just reading this off of Google.” Korekiyo couldn’t help but to chuckle softly behind his mask, bringing a hand up to cover his already masked mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quite the showman, aren’t you? Confident, too…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yeah, but you’re smiling, aren’t you? I stressed you out, so I have to cheer you up. Seems like a pretty fair deal to me,” Amami shrugged. “Besides, you’ve got a pretty smile. All I can see is your eyes, but I can just tell, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I see,” Korekiyo was glad that Amami couldn’t see most of his face. He was hoping that the blush hadn’t spread any further up his face, but the other boy wasn’t saying anything about it if it had. Before Korekiyo even knew what he was saying, he blurted out, “I would like to walk you home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amami paused, staring at Korekiyo for a moment before his face twisted into a grin. Embarrassment ran up Korekiyo’s spine, and he folded his hands behind his back. “You do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I don’t live terribly far, and Sister made sure that I packed an umbrella this morning because of the rain. I wouldn’t want you to have to walk alone and get all wet again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s super considerate of you, wow. I’m flattered. Go ahead and lead the way, I accept.” That had taken a lot less convincing than he thought it would, he realized after a moment of standing there absolutely starstruck. He hurried off to the stage, grabbing his backpack out of the auditorium seats and pulling the umbrella out of his bag. Amami followed behind him the whole time, only passing him to get to his own bag once Korekiyo paused. He met Amami at the door, and, stepping outside, he opened the umbrella and gestured for him to step under. It was a bit of a tight fit, but they both managed to get under, and they started towards Amami’s house under his direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they walked at one another’s side, Korekiyo was sure that he was going to black out any second. It was silent for a while, the only sounds being their feet hitting the ground and the rain, but their arms kept brushing together. He could feel the warmth and the definition of his skin, and he was so close to blowing some sort of fuse in his head whenever Amami spoke again. “Did you walk because it was nice this morning, too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I am not allowed to drive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah, not allowed to? What kind of strict are your parents?” Amami raised an eyebrow as he looked down at Korekiyo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not my parents,” Korekiyo shook his head, keeping his gaze straight forward, “my sister. She’s legally my guardian, and she has not yet permitted me to drive. I’m afraid she isn’t well enough to teach me, either. Theoretically, though, I know how to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh… damn. Kinda rude of her, even if she is sick. They have driving school for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love her dearly, and I would prefer if you refrained from any comments. May we please talk about something else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amami went tense at his side, but he kept walking regardless. “Yep. Sorry. I’ve got a few sister problems too, I get it. How about we plan our date, hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… think I would like that,” Korekiyo replied. “You mentioned you would like ice skating?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Out of the corner of his eye, Korekiyo could see Amami’s smile. “We can do that, if you want, I know a good place to. I can’t promise a fire after, but we could get some food after? Make out in the backseat of my car?” Korekiyo jabbed him lightly with his elbow, and Amami laughed. “Kidding! We don’t have to, first date and everything, and we can still be platonic… if you want that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it may be best if we keep it ambiguous for now. No disappointment later for any reason.” As they came down the sidewalk, they approached a gate. Through the bars, Korekiyo could see massive estates, the sort of gated community with a lake in the middle and each house having at least two floors and a private pool. “Oh, did we go the wrong way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope,” Amami hummed, leading Korekiyo right up to the gate and punching in a code. It swung open for them, and Korekiyo followed him into what had to be one of the nicest neighborhoods he had ever seen. “Hey, so, what can I call you? You can call me Rantaro, I really don’t care, but I don’t wanna cross any boundaries, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Korekiyo is fine. I still get called Shinguji a lot, because no one really bothers to ask and Korekiyo is a bit of a mouthful anyway, but I don’t mind a more informal tone. I have a nickname, however, not many people feel comfortable enough with me to use it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Rantaro stopped at the edge of one of the driveways- the edge of the driveway of the biggest house on the street- and stepped in front of Korekiyo to face him. “Well, what do you prefer?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Kiyo. Kiyo is fine.” Rantaro grinned, and Korekiyo couldn’t help but do the same behind his mask. “I’ll be seeing you within the week, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the plan. Here, hold on a second, lemme see your phone.” Without a second thought, Korekiyo handed him his phone, and Rantaro seemed to take a moment of pause as he looked at the screen. There was no password on it, he had no idea what he could have been so perplexed by, but he supposed he figured it out eventually. Rantaro typed something fairly quick, then handed it back. “Here. My number. Uh… text me if you need anything, okay? Seriously, anything.” His tone had suddenly gone softer. He wasn’t trying to be teasing or cool anymore, and he looked… almost concerned. Korekiyo took the phone out of his hand, sliding it back into his pocket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will. Have a good evening, Rantaro.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You too, Kiyo!” he beamed, then looked up at the umbrella above them. “Damn, what’s the line? ‘Parting is such a sweet sorrow?’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘That I shall say good night till it be morrow’, yes,” Korekiyo grinned in return, and Rantaro looked absolutely ecstatic, giving Korekiyo one good pat on the shoulder before running right inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo stood at the edge of the driveway for a few seconds, still a bit stunned by the events and the kindness that Rantaro had shown him. He had felt affection before, of course, but this… this was new, he thought. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and, foolishly, he pulled it out. His good mood crumpled once he saw who it was from.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Get home. Now.’ </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Amami felt like he was walking on air until the second he stepped back inside his home. His youngest sister, Kaida, ran right up to him and almost dragged him to the ground, immediately starting to talk at him. “HI! You’re home! Who was that? He looked weird. Is he your friend? Is he a girl? Is he your girlfriend or your boyfriend? I missed you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi! Let’s start with hi, okay?” Rantaro picked the little girl up off the floor, hugging her tightly. While she was distracted, he took a second to look over their entryway. It was dark, and muddy footprints tracked all through the hall. He could smell burnt food from the kitchen, and, kicking off his shoes and dropping his backpack, he started towards there. “Where are mom and dad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think they’re eating dinner. I don’t know. They said they didn’t wanna wait for you anymore. Well, mama did, but that’s because she said you would appreciate her cooking because dad is a fuckboy. Was that your girl-boyfriend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kaida, don’t say fuckboy,” Rantaro’s father said as the young man entered the dining room with his sister on his hip. He was reading a newspaper, a plate of untouched and frankly unappetizing food sitting in front of him. Rantaro’s stepmother was sitting across the table, and she looked absolutely hammered, a half-empty glass of wine in one hand and her head cradled in the other. Rantaro assumed the other half of the glass was the red stain on the table as he sat down at the one remaining plate of food, Kaida taking the seat next to him. The table was empty, save for the four of them. “Rantaro, don’t get a boyfriend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t get a girlfriend,” his stepmom retorted, setting down the glass and turning to Rantaro. “Rantaro, I don’t care if you’re a man-whore like your dad as long as you eat your dinner. The best kinds of cocktails are fruity, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guys, there’s a little kid right here, come on,” Rantaro frowned, cutting up his burnt food and taking a bite. It was awful, but he hadn’t eaten lunch, and he knew this was really his only option without burdening the waitstaff. “Anyway, I’m going out with a friend this week. His name is Kiyo, and I’m not asking for permission, I’m telling you that I’m going.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do whatever you want, honey, please tell your boyfriend I said hi and that I will give him spending money out of your father’s bank account,” she grinned drunkenly as she saw Rantaro trying to force his food down. “You too. I’ll fund your date.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My son is not gay,” his father interjected, flipping a page in his newspaper, “and Rantaro, you don’t have to eat that crap.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad, come on, can you two please just go do something gross in private instead of bothering me?” Rantaro set his fork down, watching his father stand up with a sigh. His stepmom stood up right after, hand out in front of her, and when his dad went to take it, she pulled it back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope. Credit card first.” His father rolled his eyes, pulling a credit card from his wallet and handing it over to her. She beamed, kissing him on the cheek, and with that, they left together, leaving the two Amami siblings alone in the dining room. Kaida had crawled under the table at one point and was now sitting across from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They fell into silence for a little while. Rantaro didn’t eat anymore, his plate pushed away from him as he scrolled through his phone instead, but he heard Kaida huff after a little while. “This is boring. I wanna do something fun. Can we go on an adventure? One on the boat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Little cold and rainy for an adventure right now, kiddo, even without the boat,” he replied, not looking up. She had a habit of following him everywhere, and when he started getting into exploration and adventuring in his off time or on family vacations, she had started trailing right along behind him. He swore up and down that it was going to get her lost one day, but still, no one stopped her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro had twelve sisters at one point. All younger, all different, a couple different mothers between them. He was the only product of his father’s first marriage. Over the years, Rantaro, who had always loved going out and seeing new things, learned to resent going out with them, or on family vacations altogether. He didn’t know how, but somehow, one always seemed to get lost if they all went. What was worse is that once they waited for an extra day and couldn’t find the new missing sister, his father would just… leave. He’d stop looking, and it frustrated him to no end. They could be stuck in some foreign land, or worse, hurt, and they weren’t doing anything to fix it. He had already told everyone that he would be taking a gap year to ‘study abroad’, but really, by this point, he just missed them. They were annoying and clingy, sure, but he felt like shit for leaving them behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was just down to him and Kaida now, but his father told him all the time that he had to act as if all of them were there. He didn’t see why; they were an old money family, it’s not like they were in any sort of limelight or anything. Even though he repeatedly told Rantaro that they were as good as gone, he would still make him act all perfect and straight laced and… well, straight, he guessed. His stepmom, on the other hand, expected him to be some sort of playboy. Rantaro knew he was attractive, at least to some people, but the thought of hurting someone with that sort of behavior felt… gross. Too much like one of them. Rantaro was broken out of thought again as he heard Kaida huff again, louder this time. “Yep?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m bored. ‘Taro, can we watch a movie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, but I get to pick. We’re not watching </span>
  <em>
    <span>101 Dalmatians </span>
  </em>
  <span>again,” Rantaro stood, leaving his plate- someone else would get it eventually- and heading to their living room. Kaida started to protest, but whenever Rantaro went into the movie case, she just shut her mouth and got on the couch. Pretty weird for her, but not unwelcome. Rantaro ended up picking out some other Disney movie, sitting beside her and letting it run.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Taro, you can’t get a boyfriend. ‘Specially not that one,” Kaida said, as soon as the movie started. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he looked down at her, then back at the screen. “Hercules? Well, yeah, kid, he isn’t real.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Noooo, you can’t make Kiyo your boyfriend, because then you’re gonna be like mama and wanna hang out with your stupid boy all the time instead of just paying attention to me!” she whined, throwing herself across his lap. Rantaro sighed, giving the little girl a pat on the head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna abandon you, Kaida. We’re still besties. I’ve got enough friendship bracelets to prove that much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Fine. You still can’t date him anyway, he’s weird,” she added, reaching for the remote. “I don’t like this movie. Gimme.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I said I get to pick this time!” Rantaro held the remote above her head, and that’s when the fight ensued. Kaida ended up winning, managing to get the remote out of his hand when he least expected it, and they must have watched three more movies before Kaida finally fell asleep on the couch. Rantaro was having trouble staying awake himself, despite it being earlier than when he normally went to sleep, and he shut off all the lights as he carried Kaida to her room. He laid her down, tucked her in, and went back to his own room to get some rest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the walk there, he thought about all of the things he missed that day. He could hear his dad and stepmom down the hall, doing god knows what, but he knew he must have missed some sort of fight. He didn’t get his homework done, he was too exhausted to shower, and he had spent way too long in school today… As he laid down in bed, lights off, phone about to be put on the charger, it buzzed once, then went silent. He groaned softly, checking what they said briefly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Good evening, Rantaro. This is Kiyo.’ His eyes widened, and he suddenly felt a hell of a lot more awake, sitting right up. He had actually texted him, no prompting or anything. He rubbed one eye and quickly sent a response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Hey, Kiyo! Is everything okay?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a few minutes between his responses. Rantaro was hoping he was a slow typer, but he had seen some rather… aggressive messages from ‘Miyadera Shinguji’ on his phone whenever he had handed it over. He assumed that was his sister; he really had no indicator, but she was asking where he was, saying something about where his dedications lied... He was assuming the worst when he finally got a text back. ‘All is well. Please sleep well. I hope you’re looking forward to our outing as much as I am. :]’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro fell back onto the bed, relieved. He couldn’t tell if he was lying, but he trusted Kiyo not to do that to him. He replied a second later. ‘You have no idea. That is what’s gonna keep my world turning all week. Goodnight, Kiyo!!’ He didn’t wait for a response after that, plugging in his phone and laying down on his back. He sighed softly as he stared up at the ceiling above his bed. All things considered, today wasn’t a total wash; a bunch of things had gone wrong today, but, as he fell asleep, all he could think about was the one thing that went right. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>!!!! HEY !!!!!</p>
<p>This chapter contains scenes of familial abuse from Sister! Please skip over that if you're not comfortable with it! I tried to leave the incest fairly ambiguous so that it may be interpreted as familial or romantic love, but regardless, it's still. Y'know. Manipulative.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Korekiyo could hardly stand for the entire walk home. Miyadera had apparently been texting him all evening, he must have forgotten to tell her that he would be home late. It had started with a simple ‘Where are you? :(’ around 4:30, and then it gradually evolved into increasingly more concerning messages. Korekiyo knew she worried a lot, but he was terrified that he had managed to disappoint her while he was out planning a date with another boy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he turned the key to their apartment, he couldn’t hear anything inside. Slowly, carefully, he pushed the old door open, careful to keep it from squeaking on its hinges too much. It seemed he had no concern, though, because he could see Miyadera at the table. She was sitting, back turned to him, in complete silence, staring off into space. “Korekiyo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My sincerest apologies for my tardiness, Sister,” Korekiyo murmured, walking straight to the kitchen. As he passed, Miyadera lifted her hand off the table, and he paused for just a second to press a kiss to the back of it through his mask. Satisfied, she lowered it once more and let Korekiyo make dinner for the both of them in peace. Korekiyo, however, did not feel whatever peace she had elected to grant him. His hands shook, and he was finding focusing to be rather difficult. He could feel her gaze on him, intense, judging, like she knew his guilt without having to say anything. She probably did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo made something quick. He knew that she was likely tired, and she was ill, and he felt a gnawing in his chest of how selfish he was, leaving her to wait like this for his sake. Dinner was on the table in a blur after only about fifteen minutes, with Korekiyo taking his seat across from her. He left his plate untouched as she picked up her fork. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll address that later,” she hummed, raising the fork to her lips. “For now, tell me about your day, dear Korekiyo. I’ll consider forgiving you in that time, and we’ll see if your lateness was warranted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo sighed shakily, steeling himself and sitting up straight in his chair. “I began the day with a walk to school. I did not need my umbrella in the morning; it was quite nice outside for January. I saw little traffic and even less people. I arrived at school at approximately 7:01am.” He was spacing out his sentences, talking fairly slowly in order to give her time to comment if she wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Two minutes later than normal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I must have walked slightly slower, I was thinking about preparations for the play. I proceeded about my normal schedule. In my various morning classes, we were working with logarithms, Jonathan Swift’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Modest Proposal, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and ancient Mesopotamia respectively. I did not eat lunch, as nothing seemed appetizing to me, and I apologize for that. My psychology teacher gave us the block off because of high test scores last week, and I used that time to consider a few costume suggestions from Shirogane and to complete this evening’s math homework. After that, I proceeded to the auditorium for rehearsal. Rehearsal went smoothly; Momota is still too dramatic in his death scene, however, I am considering allowing him to keep it because it is befitting of a character like Mercutio. You’d be pleased to know that Akamatsu is a wonderful Juliet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If rehearsal went smoothly, then what happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oma broke the railing on the balcony, and Angie could not stay to fix it. As stage manager, I was left to repair it to the best of my ability.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...And, what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I assume you repaired it, I know you’re certainly talented enough to,” she leaned forward onto the table, still chewing her most recent bite of food, “but there had to be something else, wasn’t there? I can see it written on your face.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo felt a shiver run down his back, and he swallowed. “...One of our hockey players, Amami, approached me about community service opportunities within the drama department. I, unfortunately, had to reject his offer, but he did help me repair the balcony and keep me company. I walked him home afterwards, as I had an umbrella and he did not. I believe I have made a new friend, a-and… he has asked if I would like to participate in an outing with him sometime.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you accept?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I left my answer ambiguous for now.” The lie felt dry on his tongue, and he knew he would feel guilty for it later, but this was… likely for the best right now. Across from him, Miyadera sighed, setting her silverware down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re forgiven. You may eat,” there was a slight edge to her voice, not mad, just disappointed, and Korekiyo made no moves to touch his food, frowning. His mask was still on, he realized, but he didn’t try to take it off, either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sister, have I upset you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, of course not,” she sighed, a bit melodramatic, “but hearing you speak of your pleasant experiences of high school makes me envious, you know, as I never got one due to my illness…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? My apologies, I didn’t even consider-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! That’s not your burden to bear!” she stood up, her plate sitting abandoned on the table. It looked like a struggle for her to get to her feet; she had been getting so, so weak recently, and it scared Korekiyo half to death. “I implore you, devote your attention to ‘wonderful Juliet’ Akamatsu or- or, heaven forbid, a boy! Amami!” she sounded like she was on the verge of tears, and Korekiyo hurried out of his seat and to her side. She pushed him away, and he dropped down to his knees as she covered her mouth with one hand. “You get the world, yet, here I am, stuck at home, dying! Go, see it all, be free, I’ll be here waiting for you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miyadera, no, I don’t want that,” he heard his voice break as he spoke. He didn’t know when he started crying, but the weight of the guilt must have finally caught up to him. “I’ll abandon all my attachments if that’s what will make you happy, please, please don’t talk like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You needn’t grovel for me, dear Korekiyo, I know you’re outgrowing your sister. I’m sure I’ll find my way somehow,” she went to take another step, to leave, but Korekiyo grabbed the hem of her robe. He held onto it as he cried, gripping it tightly in his hands, and above him, Miyadera made no effort to move. He was hyperventilating, trying to get out apologies between sobs, right up until he heard her speak again. “Do you love me, Korekiyo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re all I have,” he whimpered, and he relaxed ever so slightly as he felt long nails gently scratch at the top of his head. A second later, a hiss escaped his throat as Miyadera grabbed his hair and yanked it back, forcing Korekiyo to look up at her. Her face didn’t look blotchy at all, like she had never started crying to begin with. Her expression was cold, merciless, and he shrunk down under her gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not what I asked. Do you love me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he let his hands fall into his lap, trying to ignore the searing pain in his scalp, “more than anything else in the world.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Promise that you’ll never love another more than you love me. Not a person, not a subject. We are alone in this world, and we belong to one another.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I promise. I promise with my entire heart and soul, Sister, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, she released him. He slumped onto the floor, sniffling and trying desperately to compose himself. He felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head, flinching. “Go shower. You’re filthy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without another word, Korekiyo got up and left for the bathroom, his food staying untouched on the table. He managed to stay composed, walking completely normally, if not a bit fast. The second he shut the door and turned on the vent, though, the loud sound coursing through the bathroom, he collapsed to the floor, holding himself and starting to cry again. How could be be so selfish, so stupid as to hurt her like that? She had given him everything he ever wanted, and this is how he repaid her? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took him awhile to get in the shower, but he did. He scrubbed his skin raw, but he still felt dirty by the time he shut the water off. It had been running cold for several minutes by the time he finally did, and he had no idea how long he had been in there. It may have been minutes, it may have been hours, but he was shivering for one reason or another. He was exhausted as he got dressed, another gift made by sister, and, when he went to get a new mask, he found that they were all missing out of the drawer. He knew he had plenty that morning, but, as he crept out of their room to find Miyadera, she beat him to speaking. “Ah, Korekiyo, you’re done. Come, sit, study with me. You mentioned earlier this week that you have a test, right? We can study together.” She had made herself comfy in her armchair, a blanket over her lap and Korekiyo’s school work already in her hands. Silently, Korekiyo sat down on the living room floor across from her, and for the next several hours, that was all they did. She seemed to be completely ignoring what had just happened, but Korekiyo couldn’t help but feel grateful that she had it in her heart to forget his shame and his mistakes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As per the usual, they went to bed rather early. He helped Miyadera to bed first, then returned to clean the kitchen, and by the time he was done, the lights were off and she was already sound asleep. Their beds were pushed apart on opposite walls of their room, but he was nervous to touch his phone in the dark of their room. He still felt awful; nausea had set in at some point, even if his head was a bit more calm, and, just for a moment, he reached for his phone. Rantaro had told him to text if he needed anything…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning the brightness all the way down and putting a blanket over his head, he texted Rantaro. ‘Good evening, Rantaro. This is Kiyo.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro’s response was almost immediately, and he felt his heart melt. ‘Hey, Kiyo! Is everything okay?’ The genuine concern was touching, and some of the tension drained right out of his muscles. He was prepared to let his guard down, to tell Rantaro about his evening, but a shifting from the bed across from him snapped him out of it about halfway through typing a lengthy message.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Korekiyo?” he heard Miyadera call groggily, and he set his phone face down on the sheets as he uncovered himself. She was staring straight at him, barely awake. “You shouldn’t be on your phone. It’s late, rest for tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Sister,” he murmured, and with that, she rolled over and shut her eyes once more. Korekiyo didn’t pick his phone again until he heard her start snoring softly. He stared at where he left off… then just deleted it. All of it. ‘All is well. Please sleep well. I hope you’re looking forward to our outing as much as I am. :]’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo got another quick response. He didn’t feel as though he deserved it, not after making Rantaro wait that long, but he had it. ‘You have no idea. That is what’s gonna keep my world turning all week. Goodnight, Kiyo!!’ He didn’t know how many times he read over that message; ‘keep his world turning’? What ridiculous hyperbole… Still, though, it made him feel safe. The room didn’t feel quite so cold anymore, his phone resting on his chest as sleep finally overtook him, a whispered ‘goodnight, Rantaro’ escaping him as he did.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Korekiyo had managed to get his head on straight once again by the time he was in drama practice the next day. He had to be; there were too many things to worry about on the stage for him to be sitting there, thinking about how much he had disappointed Miyadera yesterday. Still, though, today he had informed her that he would once again be running late. It eased the pain a bit, although Miyadera’s response of ‘Do what you want’ was entirely disheartening. He had to be here, though, for the good of the show. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One thing wouldn’t stay off his mind for the entire rehearsal, though, and that was Rantaro. It had started when they were doing the balcony scene for the first time that day, and the second Romeo’s lines left Kokichi’s lips, Korekiyo lost focus, launched right back to the previous day’s events. Kokichi’s voice was slowly replaced in his mind with Rantaro’s smooth, soothing one, and he began zoning out, daydreaming about the other boy and how they could have spent their afternoon yesterday…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Kaito who broke him out of it, putting a hand on Korekiyo’s shoulder. He jumped, whirling around to look at him, and he must have been glaring, because the other boy stumbled backward. “Woah, hey! Didn’t mean to scare you or anything, just wanted to know if we were going onto the next scene!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-” he took a breath, glancing over at where the two leads were finishing up the current scene, and he sighed. “Yes. I apologize. Move on once this scene is done.” from that point on, he could hardly bring himself to focus during the rehearsal, just drifting through it and doing what was necessary to get by. All he could think about was </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he was mentally kicking himself for it. They had just met, and he was smitten already. He had absolutely no idea what to do with himself, with these emotions, and he was usually so composed and proper and it was driving him insane. By the time he ended up in the choir room with Miu and Tsumugi, he was so bothered that he was completely zoning out on their conversation. Miu sat in a swivel chair nearby, loudly smacking her gum and working on some robotics homework while Tsumugi sat on the floor with a skirt, talking enthusiastically to no one in particular about the sort of technique she was using at the moment. Korekiyo himself was laying on his back on the risers, one hand resting over his heart and the other dangling off the edge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Shinguji?” Tsumugi stopped mid sentence, lowering the skirt into her lap. “You look kind of out of it, is everything okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s fine,” Miu answered for him. She swung her legs onto the floor from the armrest of the chair and wheeled over to Korekiyo, poking him on the cheek. “Guys always get like this when they’re around me, they get so fuckin’ horny that they can’t think!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s been like this since earlier during rehearsal, though, he couldn’t even see you then,” Tsumugi protested, causing the blonde above Korekiyo to tense up and go all red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-It’s the pheromones! Are you saying I’m not hot enough to get a response from men?!” Miu whimpered, and Tsumugi rolled her eyes. She got up off the floor and walked over to Korekiyo, leaning over him with her arms folded behind her. Her brow furrowed, and she frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo frowned right back. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t think horny is really the right word for it, but… I think I’ve seen enough anime to know what that look is!” Tsumugi giggled, clapping her hands excitedly. “You’re in love, aren’t you? With who? Are you guys more like a Tamaki and a Haruhi or a Hikaru and a Haruhi? Ooooh, or maybe you’re more like a Nekozawa?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shirogane, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Korekiyo sat up, straightening out his shirt. “I never said I was in love with anyone, and, even if I was, you don’t need to know that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s plain to see, though!” she clasped her hands together, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Who is it? Come on, you can tell us!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No way is anyone letting him hit. Goth dick is fine, but it’s kinda hard to sit on someone’s face while they’re wearing a mask.” Miu retorted. Regardless, she spun in her chair to face Korekiyo once again. “We could always fuck? The three of us, right here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Iruma,” Korekiyo sighed. He was very aware of the gazes of both girls on him at the moment, scrutinizing, almost judging. He was baffled at how fast Tsumugi had figured it out; he didn’t think he was that obvious, at least not in the face, but he did suppose that Miu and Tsumugi were the closest things he had to friends… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See, Tsumugi? Can’t even fuckin’ look at us. Gotta be the tits, I’m just too gorgeous for-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rantaro Amami stopped by the auditorium yesterday,” Korekiyo interrupted Miu, and the self-proclaimed genius squeaked and sank down in her chair. “We talked for a bit. I walked him home. We’re planning on going on a date of ambiguous romantic or platonic level this week, and nothing else happened, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tsumugi was on the floor again, her fists balled up under her chin. “Yeah? But what’s the first person POV like? What are you thinking?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo blushed underneath his mask, his posture getting a bit smaller. Once he realized that Tsumugi wasn’t going to let up, he started talking once more. “...He’s quite handsome. He has very pretty eyes, and his hair is just… fluffy. It looks soft in the way that it puts all of the gods’ creatures to shame. He has a bone structure that looks like I would cut my hand if I ran it across his collarbone, and the muscle definition in his arms is the work of Michaelangelo himself. It’s not threatening, just… beautiful. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>beautiful.” The three of them just sat there in silence for a second. That was the most personal thing he had said to either of them, maybe even anyone in the school, and they were stunned. He was close to apologizing for ruining the mood, but then Tsumugi squealed, leaping forward and hugging him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ARE in love!” she shrieked, gripping onto him tightly and only letting go when she noticed the tension in his shoulders. Miu looked pretty entertained as well, but she just started laughing about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn, that was pretty gay! You sure you don’t act?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miu, you’re bisexual,” Korekiyo looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t act, no, but I have the show memorized and I know Shakespeare’s work front to back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I bet. Sittin’ there, waxing poetic or somethin’ like you’re fuckin’ Romeo himself. Keep it in your pants, Shinguji.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo chuckled softly, laying back down on the risers. Within his reach was a rose prop, which he glanced over at and grabbed before starting to speak again. “</span>
  <span>But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?” he began, and Miu started laughing again, earning a punch in the arm from Tsumugi. “It is the east, and Rantaro is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou his man art far more fair than she…” he trailed off, and Miu butt in again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Rantaro, Rantaro? Where the fuck are you, Rantaro? That’s what you sound like right now. Shakespeare doesn’t have enough sex in it, just tell him you wanna screw his brains out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Firstly, too forward. Second, if you were to pay attention to the show, you would notice that Act 2, scene 4 is littered with entendres that would suit your fancy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever! Good luck getting into fuckin’ Rantaro Amami’s jeans, though, they’re tight as hell and you’re-” Miu stopped talking when a crash sounded from outside, followed by a short, stifled ‘ow!’ Tsumugi, who had been listening and entertained the entire time, froze, and Korekiyo shot up to his feet and threw open the double doors of the choir room. He found none other than Kokichi Oma, lying in a pile on the floor on top of one of the wooden cutouts for the show. He was rubbing his head, and Korekiyo paled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oma, may I ask how long you were standing there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Kokichi looked up at him, standing and rubbing a sizable bump on his forehead. “You had to walk past me to get into the choir room, remember? I’ve been standing here the whole time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No you weren’t, you were heading out the door before I even started over to this side of the hall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That earned a giggle from Kokichi, a mischievous smirk lighting up his whole face. “Ooooh, ya got me! I just got here…. Or, maybe that’s a lie, too. Guess you’ll never know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me immediately. How long were you standing there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kokichi shrugged. “I don’t know. What didn’t you want me to hear?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, why, you little-” Korekiyo raised his hands up, half prepared to go for Kokichi’s throat, but the damned imp seemed to know what was coming, and he made a break for it the second he could, cackling all the way. Korekiyo stood there for a moment, watching him run off. He truly had no idea what he was capable of, but, if he was going to do something, he was sure he would find out soon enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo stepped back into the choir room, fuming as he sat down on the risers again. “The mood is dead. I’m not talking about it anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tsumugi sighed, picking her skirt back up. “Darn. I was kinda looking forward to what Miu had to say…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A shame it’s over, then. What alterations do you have in mind for any of the costumes?” Tsumugi seemed to get over her remorse pretty quickly at that, pulling over her basket of various buttons and ribbons and garnishes and starting to list off her ideas. It was a good distraction, for now, but he could feel a storm brewing deep down in the pit of his stomach. The incident last night with his sister wasn’t going to be the apex of his problems, not by a long shot.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rantaro had a rough time dragging himself out of bed that morning. He had to take care of Kaida before he could do anything for himself, and his parents sure as hell weren’t doing it. In the hour that he had from when he woke up to when he got in his car, the weather still muggy from the day before, he had managed to get Kaida out of bed, shower, get dressed, grab breakfast from the kitchen, get Kaida back up to her room after she ate, convince her to get dressed, turn a movie on for her downstairs, and rush out of the house. He barely made it to his first class on time, having to sprint down the hallway to get there, but he made it nonetheless, collapsing into the chair of his first block. Maki cast him a glance from across the room, which didn’t go completely unnoticed by him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His classes all sort of muddled together, just a mess of new information and something-or-other as per usual. He had conversations, none of which really mattered. What was on his mind, though, was Korekiyo. He was still a bit worried about the other boy, what with the previous evening and all of that, but, on top of that, he kind of just wanted to talk to him. He vaguely recalled someone telling him, albeit a long time ago, that he was quite the storyteller. It may have been something along the lines of ‘he didn’t shut up for twenty minutes in history today’, but, same difference. He was repeatedly checking his phone, making sure he didn’t get a text, and he kept trying to think of something, anything interesting enough to warrant saying. He didn’t. His head didn’t really clear up until hockey practice, and even then about midway through, he thought he saw a flash of dark green hair out of the corner of his eye. His head whipped around to check, and in the process, he smacked right into a wall. Dazed and mildly embarrassed, he hauled himself back to his feet, only to see that it wasn’t Korekiyo at all, and that he had done that for nothing. Great. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro was no stranger to crushes. He had plenty in the past, and he was sure he would have many more in the future. Or, at least he was sure yesterday. He had never been fucked up this badly over anyone, thinking about them so much that he actually wanted their attention and accidentally got hurt for them; that much was new. It was entirely unfamiliar territory, but he decided that he didn’t really hate it. He had come to terms with not being straight a while ago, and if the first guy he had a crush on was love at first sight, potential soulmates, then so be it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ended up running into Ryoma in the locker room. The other boy certainly did not seem happy to see him, nor when Rantaro actually approached him and started talking. “Oh, hey! I didn’t know you played a sport!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I try to keep it that way,” Ryoma replied, continuing what he was doing. He didn’t spare Rantaro so much as a glance. “Did the drama club thing pan out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, not at all. Apparently they don’t need people there to help right now, so I’ll have to find something else,” Rantaro started taking off all his gear, setting it on the ground as he did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And talking to Shinguji?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone to ask, actually,” Rantaro chuckled softly, pausing to rub the back of his neck. “It went awesome. I don’t know what you guys were so worried about, I think he’s really sweet, and we have a date booked for next week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryoma whistled, sitting down on the bench. He had finished changing from whatever sport he was in, apparently, but he didn’t seem like he was going to leave just yet. “You do pick ‘em weird, I’ll give you that much. Not bothered at all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, his sister was kinda rude when he texted her. There’s probably something there, but I don’t want to intrude in all of that, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His sister? Didn’t she graduate from here a couple years ago?” Ryoma looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. Rantaro shrugged, and Ryoma continued. “I’m pretty sure she did… I dunno if she graduated or had to drop, but I think she was dying, or something. Probably not relevant to whatever you’re doing, but I’ve heard she’d freakier than he is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said Kiyo was weird, too, and I ended up liking him. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, I dunno, but I’m not gonna pass too harsh of judgement on someone I’ve never met, y’know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your funeral if she’s a serial killer or something,” Ryoma hummed, reaching into his bag and sticking a candy cigarette in his mouth. “Good luck with all of that. I’m not optimistic or anything, but I’m still rooting for you.” He didn’t wait for Rantaro to respond before he started walking out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your support is appreciated and I value your friendship!” Rantaro called after him, and he couldn’t tell, but he thought he saw Ryoma start walking faster towards the door. He shrugged it off, returning to his own business. He was mostly done, shirt in his hands, whenever he heard the locker room door slam open. That wasn’t all that uncommon; practice had just finished for a couple teams, and they were open and shut all the time, but what was more concerning was the flash of purple barrelling straight towards Rantaro as he tried to get dressed. Not quite knowing what to do, he just froze, right up until Kokichi Oma stopped in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro didn’t know shit about Kokichi. He lied a lot, but that was about the extent of it. He was sort of known around the school as a wild card, and Rantaro could assume that he was not someone you wanted to be shirtless around, regardless of circumstances. However, right now, he looked… almost cute. Cute in the way that a kid or a puppy does. He had a slip of cardstock gripped tightly in his hand, and he was smiling in a manner that fell just short of innocent. “Hi! You’re Amami, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be me, unless you’re looking for one of my sisters,” Rantaro didn’t try to put his shirt on, still working to catch up on what was going on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope!” Kokichi held out the piece of cardstock to him, which, hesitantly, Rantaro pulled out of his hand and scanned over it. It was a ticket to the play; opening night, fairly decent seats, with all of the times and a logo for the play printed on it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh… Is this an invitation?” Rantaro slipped the ticket into his pocket, his eyes meeting the shorter boy’s once again. “Sorry, have we talked before!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe! You don’t need to know that. Anyway, it’s not an invitation. It’s a command,” Kokichi managed to look innocent, even when saying that. “You’ll be there on opening night to watch the show, or else I’ll personally make sure your day sucks ass forever and ever, okay? Promise you’ll be there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, a free ticket is a free ticket. I’ll be there, I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Promises are just words… you better not be lying to me. I hate liars, they’re the worst kind of people, you know. Seriously, if you’re lying to me, and you don’t show up, I will put a dead fish in your locker where you’ll never be able to find it!” His voice was almost sing-songy as he spoke, but that tone somehow managed to chill Rantaro down to the core just a little bit more. “Anyway, you should put a shirt on. You look pretty gross.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro didn’t really have time to be offended, (he wasn’t anyway, he knew he was hot) hearing someone scream Oma’s name from outside. It wasn’t anyone that sounded familiar to Rantaro, probably a teacher, but whoever it was, Kokichi seemed to panic. “Is that for you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shit. Probably. Remember, be there or be a victim of my wrath for the rest of your life!” He managed to spit out before sprinting out the other door of the locker room. Apparently, that was the wrong decision, because Kokichi made it to the door, shrieked, and ran the other way. Rantaro didn’t move until Kokichi was definitely gone, honestly too stupefied to do anything, but he got his sense back eventually. He put his shirt on, then his jacket, and he started the walk outside to his car. On the way, he pulled the ticket out of his pocket, looking over it. It wasn’t anything special, but now he had a chance to see Korekiyo’s hard work pay off in person.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got into the front seat of his car, his gear and his backpack going into the back. He started the car, and right as he was about to pull out of the driveway, he saw a person walking down the sidewalk. Korekiyo was leaving the auditorium, looking just as nice as he had the day before. Quickly, Rantaro pulled out his phone, sending him a text. ‘See you!’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro watched as Korekiyo paused, taking out his own phone and checking the text. He could see the smile in his eyes, even from here as he read it, then looked up and locked eyes with him across the parking lot. Korekiyo waved, he waved back and tried to keep himself from melting into a puddle in his car. He was so close to asking him to come ride with him until Korekiyo sent a message back and continued walking. ‘My apologies, I’m expected to walk home. Would you like to plan our date now?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I would love to,’ he sent back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘Don’t text and drive. Please get home safely, then I would love to discuss it with you :].’ Grinning, Rantaro set his phone aside, starting to pull out of the parking lot. The odd encounter from a mere ten minutes prior was forgotten, replaced by nothing but enthusiasm and anticipation for his date with Korekiyo. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The week ended up really getting away from both of them. While the show was going fine, things for Korekiyo to address kept popping up over the course of the week, and he barely had a spare moment to talk to Rantaro. They had settled on the day before opening night, but he certainly hadn’t told Miyadera that. He had been taking care of her in what little extra time he had, and although he felt guilty for lying to her, she wouldn’t be upset if she thought he was at a rehearsal that was running long. It was plausible, but she was still a little displeased; he would be gone several nights in a row to run the show, and now here he was, skipping out on the night before they started as well. He didn’t hear the end of that all week, listening to her gripe and complain that he wasn’t dedicated enough to her or that he should stick to history and anthropology. It was tearing him up inside, and he wanted so desperately to be honest with her, but every time he tried, she would interrupt with some other comment about his or her own day. He supposed there was no harm done as long as he was back in time for bed, bringing food home for her on the way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro was mostly having issues with his classes. With how distracted he had been recently, he was falling a bit behind. He didn’t really care; he just wanted to travel the world, but his father most definitely did not share that sentiment. The second he saw that Rantaro had missed one assignment, he had a new private tutor, one that didn’t allow phones in their sessions. That tutor must have been convinced that Rantaro was some kind of idiot or something, because those sessions usually lasted much longer than Rantaro thought they needed to. By the time he was done with practice, tutoring, dinner, and preparations for the next day, he felt guilty about trying to text Korekiyo. The most they got until date night was a couple waves across the hallway in passing, and Rantaro could not wait for date night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had decided that they would most definitely be ice skating, and that they would be getting coffee after. Rantaro was shocked that Korekiyo would even drink coffee; he hadn’t seen him eat or drink anything at all, nor had anyone else, and he pegged him as more of a tea kind of guy anyway. Apparently he had some sort of method, but when Rantaro did get a moment during their date planning to ask about it, Korekiyo had just sort of shrugged it off. Rantaro dropped it from there, not really wanting to press onward. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time the actual night of the date rolled around, Korekiyo had developed some reservations for it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it to happen, but he was incredibly nervous about embarrassing himself in front of Rantaro. He didn’t get nervous; this wasn’t like him. Miyadera said it was unbecoming of him, and he had to accept things as they came, but Miyadera wasn’t even here for this. Rantaro had offered to drive him, but that wasn’t an invitation he could bring himself to accept. He sat in the passenger seat of Miu’s car now, some profane music that Korekiyo would never put on his own playlist blaring out of the radio and drifting out of the cracked windows. On the top of her dashboard was some gadget she made, and, as they pulled into the parking lot, she smacked the top of it and handed Korekiyo… a condom. Korekiyo cringed and handed it back. “I won’t be needing that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hittin’ it raw on the first date? Bold, didn’t know you had it in ya!” Miu cackled, tucking it into her own front pocket. “Everything good? I can go tell him to get fucked if you changed your mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo glanced out the windshield, spotting Rantaro at the edge of the rink. They had been unlucky enough to accidentally pick a day that was snowing, not hard enough to stick or anything, but it was still cold. Rantaro was wearing a leather jacket, an expensive looking one, and his green hair had snowflakes falling and sticking in it. His nose and cheeks were already a bit red from the cold, and gods, he just looked so pretty, so bright, against the grey backdrop of the sky. Korekiyo felt his heart seize up a bit as the other boy looked up, noticing Korekiyo and waving to him with a cool grin on his face. Anxiously, Korekiyo waved back, then turned back to Miu. “No. I can’t leave now. I want this, Iruma… but you will be the first person I call if something happens.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Better fuckin’ be! There’s no one better for the job, now get outta here!” Korekiyo hurried to get out of the car, but the second he stepped out, Miu stopped him again. “Did I tell ya that you look like a loser, emphasis on loser?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did not, however, I quite like my outfit,” Korekiyo replied, making no pause. “Bye, I’ll see you tomorrow at the latest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t blow him unless he pays you!” Miu managed to yell before Korekiyo shut the car door. Within a few seconds, Miu was pulling out of the spot and speeding out of the parking lot at top speeds, leaving Korekiyo with no way out. Not anymore. He stood there for a moment, steeling himself and considering what Miu had said. He was wearing jeans, collared shirt, a sweater vest, a tie, some gloves, and his usual mask; he didn’t think it was so out of character for him, except for the jeans, which he had picked out due to a lack of laundry getting done over the course of the week. No matter. He liked it well enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked to Rantaro, and to his surprise, the other boy met him halfway, bounding right over to him. “Hey! You look awesome!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could say the same for you,” Korekiyo smiled- something likely not visible behind his mask- and continued walking, allowing Rantaro to fall into line at his side. “I believe I warned you over text while we were planning, but I have never done this before. Tell me, is it terribly difficult?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, not for me, but I’ve been doing this for a while. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you start to fall, and I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly, alright?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I put my full faith in you,” Korekiyo started towards what he assumed was the skate rental booth, right up until Rantaro grabbed him by the hand. He froze, his hand going entirely too tense as Rantaro pulled him the other direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the return booth, the one we want is-” Rantaro paused, looking down at their hands. “Oh. Sorry about that, guess that crosses a line, huh?” Rantaro started to let go of Korekiyo’s hand, only for Korekiyo to lace their fingers together and hold on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Normally, however, due to the nature of this outing, I will make an exception for you,” Korekiyo tried to keep his voice from shaking, to keep it from displaying just how dizzy he was getting from their fingers interlocking and the gentle warmth of Rantaro’s hands. Rantaro smiled- gods, that smile- and gave his hand a squeeze, and Korekiyo just about passed out right then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I can live with that.” He led Korekiyo to the skate rental booth, and before Korekiyo could take out his wallet, Rantaro was already setting the cash on the counter. “What size are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can cover the cost myself, Rantaro, you don’t have to pay on my behalf.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too late, and any money you try to hand me will be given back to you. This is my dad’s money, you’re not inconveniencing me any.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo sighed, giving Rantaro his shoe size and getting the proper skates. True to his word, when Korekiyo tried to give him the cost of the skates back, Rantaro pushed his hand away, sitting down on a bench to put on his own skates instead. He had brought them from home, and they looked worn, but expensive. Korekiyo sat down at his side, watching how he laced his in order to do his own. It wasn’t that difficult, he knew how to work with rope, and the laces were no different, but when Rantaro got done before him and offered to help, Korekiyo didn’t say no. Once they were done, Rantaro took his hand once again and led him onto the ice. The first thing he noticed is that he was suddenly a lot less steady on his feet. The ice was slick, obviously, but he hadn’t accounted for the fact that something so thin was supposed to hold his entire weight, much less get him across the ice. Instinctively, he grabbed onto the wall, and Rantaro’s free hand went to his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, you’re alright! I’m not gonna let you fall or anything, okay?” he looked concerned, but Korekiyo relaxed just about immediately when they made eye contact. Now that he was actually living this, it was sort of nerve wracking, but the look on Rantaro’s face made him feel much, much safer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand. My apologies for the overreacting, it’s just strange.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I completely get it! It’s difficult the first time. I’ve got you, though. You don’t want your feet to go straight forward the entire time. They’ll kinda move in a curve, one at a time. Don’t worry about balance for now, you’ll get that eventually, but I’ll hold your hand for now, if that’s alright.” Slowly, Rantaro started moving forward, staying at Korekiyo’s side and hand falling off of his shoulder. Korekiyo absentmindedly started gliding towards him, one hand on the wall and the other locked in Rantaro’s. It was shaky, but he was moving, and he didn’t feel like he was going to fall. They did a lap around the entire rink, once, maybe twice, he didn’t pay that close of attention, before hesitantly letting go of the wall. Rantaro took that as a nod to slowly pull the both of them away from it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barely a few seconds after letting go, Korekiyo felt himself start to fall backwards. He panicked, his legs spreading apart and his free arm flailing as he tried to keep himself up, but in a flash, he found himself pressed against something warm, rather than the cold ground he had been expecting. Rantaro had pulled Korekiyo to his chest, catching him in a sort of dip position before he could hit the ice. Their faces were mere inches apart, and he could feel Rantaro’s warm breath on his face. The other boy looked positively astounded, just staring at him, and Korekiyo couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “While I thank you for catching me, this position may be a bit unnecessary for a prolonged period of time like this…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo noticed a little sparkle in Rantaro’s eye as he laughed right along with him, helping Korekiyo back up to his feet. “Sorry! Got a little distracted, I, uh… got lost in your eyes?” When Korekiyo laughed again, a bit louder this time, Rantaro lit up completely. “Okay, okay, the pickup line worked, but oh my god, your laugh is literally so cute.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I cannot quite recall the last time anyone complimented me in such a manner, Rantaro, nor can I remember the last time anyone called me ‘cute.’ I do not understand where you’re getting these notions from,” Korekiyo hesitantly started skating forward once again, Rantaro matching his pace as he did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just think you’re pretty. Really, really pretty, and I like your laugh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought we were supposed to be keeping the nature of this date ambiguous?” Korekiyo teased, and the other boy blushed, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, now, if we can hold hands in an ambiguous way, then I think I can call you pretty in an ambiguous way, right? Maybe I’m not flirting, it’s just an observation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, then, I’ve observed that you’re rather handsome yourself,” Korekiyo didn’t even know what he was saying by this point. He was never nearly this bold, but all his anxieties had somehow melted away just being this close to Rantaro. He hardly felt as controlled as usual, but in a way, it was liberating, comforting. “Ah… you know, though, I don’t know if this is the most secure I could feel. There’s still a chance I could fall, obviously.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Rantaro’s face went serious all of the sudden, and he gripped Korekiyo’s hand just a little bit tighter. “What can I do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe you could put your arm around my waist?” Rantaro looked like he could hardly believe what Korekiyo was saying, but, to be fair, Korekiyo couldn’t believe it either. He let go of Korekiyo’s hand in favor of wrapping an arm around his hips, pulling him a fraction of an inch closer. Not wanting to let his arm hover, Korekiyo did the same for him in turn. He hadn’t realized that they would end up being quite this close; he couldn’t remember the last time he was touching someone this much, but the fluttery feeling in his stomach kept him from pulling away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t keep track of how long they ended up skating. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been hours, but before he knew it, the string lights over the rink were on and his head was on Rantaro’s shoulder. Rantaro had shown him a few tricks in an effort to get him to laugh again (they worked), but for the most part, they had stayed holding one another, Korekiyo eventually getting the hang of moving and standing on his own, but not wanting to break away. Admittedly, it was partially because of how cold it had gotten, but at the same time, it was soothing to have someone so close. Rantaro hadn’t stopped smiling, either; he had been a lot more attentive to what people around the school said, and apparently, he had a reputation of being rather cool, even cold to the people around him. Here he was now, though, grinning like an idiot, and Korekiyo couldn’t help but take the smallest amount of pride in knowing that he was the one to make it happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As far as Korekiyo was concerned, everything was going perfectly until Rantaro stopped dead in his tracks. Before he could ask what was going on, Rantaro let go of him, gently pushing him towards the wall. “Go take your skates off. I’ll be over in a minute.” His voice sounded grim, almost panicked, and Korekiyo slid towards the wall and out of the rink with no real ease. He glanced back at Rantaro, who was now gliding in circles, trying to spot what he was seeing. He followed his gaze to a small family. There was a man, a woman, and a small child, all dressed rather well to be ice skating. Off of that alone, he had no idea what could have possibly warranted that sort of reaction from Rantaro, but he certainly wasn’t going to argue with him, sitting down on the bench and changing back into his normal shoes. As promised, Rantaro was over a minute later. Korekiyo opened his mouth to speak to him, but Rantaro walked right past, taking a different bench a bit farther away in order to change shoes. Korekiyo frowned, but he made no effort to get closer to him. He noticed, though, as he sat there, that it was incredibly cold without Rantaro pressed up against him. That may have partially been because he didn’t bring a jacket, but the reason for it was irrelevant. He was cold, and he wanted Rantaro back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro got up as soon as his skates were off, tossing them over his shoulder and starting out of the rink. He gestured for Korekiyo to follow once he was a few feet away, and Korekiyo did, keeping his distance until Rantaro got in his car. Korekiyo climbed into the seat beside him, still frowning. “Is something the matter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro sighed, letting his head thunk against the chair as he raked his hands through his hair. He looked over at Korekiyo. “You’re shaking. Are you cold, do you want my jacket?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, and please don’t dodge the question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nonsense. C’mon, I don’t want you to catch a cold or anything, I’m usually pretty warm anyway,” Rantaro took his jacket off, trying to hand it to Korekiyo. Korekiyo pushed it back into his hands, but the heat radiating off of it did feel wonderful…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take the jacket in exchange for your honesty on the situation. I don’t much appreciate being left out of the loop on things.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro narrowed his eyes. “Jacket first, then I’ll talk.” Korekiyo obediently took the jacket from him, settling into the seat once he had it on. Rantaro grinned, looking a bit more relieved, and he started talking. “I, uh… that was my dad. My stepmom and my little sister, too, but my dad’s the real concern. If any of them had noticed us, they would have said something, and he’s kinda homophobic. With the way he talks about my sisters, I don’t think he cares very much for any of us, and he would probably be willing to kick me out of the house and off the inheritance at any time if I dated a boy. Family’s kinda important to me, y’know? I can’t stand the idea of losing it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand the sentiment,” Korekiyo pulled the jacket a bit tighter around himself. “I also appreciate your honesty, and I apologize towards your father’s feelings on the whole matter. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you kidding me? You make it so worth it,” Rantaro turned in his seat so he was facing the center console, and Korekiyo mimicked his posture. Rantaro seemed to realize what he said right after, and he blushed, chuckling softly. “That’s kinda lame of me to say, I guess, but it’s how I feel, honestly. That was nice. You’re easy to be around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a way to put it, I suppose,” Korekiyo replied bashfully, looking down at the floor. “I’m normally not one for physical contact, but for some unfathomable reason, yours is fine. I enjoyed it. You make me feel rather comfortable, Rantaro.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I definitely agree.” Korekiyo didn’t look at him, but he heard a shuffling across from him. Rantaro’s fingers brushed right under his chin, gently tilting Korekiyo’s head up. The other boy followed, only to find that Rantaro had suddenly gotten a hell of a lot closer to his face. The hand trailed up his jawline, pushing a stray lock of hair back behind his ear before coming back to rest on his cheek. His thumb grazed the hem of his mask, and Korekiyo could have sworn that he was about to throw up his heart. “You look so cute in my jacket…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there something you’re trying to ask for like this?” Korekiyo lowered his voice substantially, his hand coming up to rest on Rantaro’s. Rantaro looked like he was thinking, just for a moment, before his thumb gently hooked under his mask. He didn’t pull, just held it there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can say no. I won’t be upset. That being said… may I?” Korekiyo nodded, and carefully, Rantaro pulled his mask down. He looked surprised, just for a moment, but he certainly gave no indicator as to why. Giving Korekiyo plenty of time to stop him, Rantaro leaned forward, slowly, carefully pressing their lips together and kissing him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo’s brain short circuited. A million thoughts ran through his head at once; there was something about the morality of kissing on the first date, something about Rantaro being able to have anyone in the world he wanted, about whatever shitty advice Miu had given him on the car ride over there about making out with people, about just how disappointing his own lack of experience must be right now. They were fleeting, though, and he eventually settled on the sheer warmth and electricity circulating through his chest, combined with just how soft Rantaro’s lips were against his, and, to his surprise, he found himself kissing Rantaro back. Granted, he was a lot clumsier, a lot less experienced, but Rantaro certainly didn’t seem to mind. It was a while of them before either of them thought to pull away, at least fully. They would end up taking a second to breathe, then going right back in. By the time they actually pulled away, Korekiyo was almost lightheaded, and his vision was momentarily blurry as he opened his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s when he noticed the red around Rantaro’s mouth. It wasn’t blood, he could reassure himself of that, but that’s when he remembered the lipstick. Miyadera had him put it on every morning, sort of a projection of herself as he went about his day, and now, here it was, a reminder of her on Rantaro’s face. His promise to her echoed through his head again; he was supposed to love her more than anything, and yet here he was, entertaining a crush for his own stupid, selfish purposes. What if she was hurt, or even dying? She would be so, so mad at him if she found out, and that’s when the guilt crept right back in. He felt his chest seize up, his throat growing tight for no reason. Rantaro must have noticed the panic on his face, because he pulled back immediately, hands completely off of Korekiyo. “Hey, what’s wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to go,” Korekiyo spat the words out, sounding much harsher than he needed to, “now. I’m sorry, I can’t-” he got out of the car, ignoring Rantaro calling ‘Kiyo, wait’ after him as he hurried off into the snow. He shut the door behind him, refusing to meet Rantaro’s eyes. The snow had gotten heavier while they were skating, making it all the more difficult to run through and see in, and it was so cold. He didn’t even realize that he was still wearing Rantaro’s jacket until he had run a decent distance away from the rink. He didn’t even know he could run that fast, he thought to himself, doubling over against the nearest bench. He was tempted to go back to return it, to just face the problem head on, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he just wasn’t strong enough to. Not now. He’d get someone else, someone better to do it for him later, someone who actually deserved to be around him and not some selfish, useless prick who couldn’t even manage to stay around for his dying sister.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glancing around, he realized that he had no idea where he was. The haze from the weather wasn’t helping, but he didn’t recognize this neighborhood. He pulled out his phone, noticing that he only had one percent left on his phone battery. He was so close to texting Miyadera to apologize, to spill everything to her, but at the last second, he switched to Miu’s contact. He sent her his location and a simple ‘come get me’, and he watched the message send before his phone died. He shoved it back in his pocket, not bothering to swipe the snow off of the bench before sitting down on it. He balled the edge of Rantaro’s jacket up in his hands, and, sniffling, he finally felt the tears start rolling down his cheeks. The jacket smelled like him, it was still a little bit warm like him, and he had left him in a parking lot. He had no way of contacting him after having abandoned and stolen from him, nor could he contact his sister. He didn’t even know if Miu was coming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo was completely, utterly alone.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Korekiyo didn’t remember getting in Miu’s car. He was sure that it happened, obviously, he was sitting in her passenger seat again, but he had no recollection of when she arrived or the reaction he had when she did. Miu was driving way too fast for the ice on the roads, especially in the one handed way she was. She had a milkshake in her other hand, and he could see her squinting behind the sunglasses she insisted on wearing as she drove in the dark. A song that her phone said was called ‘WAP’ was playing out of the radio, quite loudly, but Korekiyo was trying to drown it out. He had stopped crying, and his legs were pulled up against his chest in the passenger seat as he stared out the window. He wasn’t terribly conscious of his surroundings at the moment, but he knew that Keebo, some other tech from the drama club, and Tsumugi were both in the backseat with an ice cream each. Other than the music and the occasional sniffle from Korekiyo, the car was dead silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsumugi was the first person to say something. “Miu, switch the song, he’s clearly having a crisis!” she blurted out, and Miu fired back immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my car and this was what I listened to the last time I had guy problems, everyone gets a hoe phase sometime!” Miu snapped, keeping her eyes on the road. “C’mon, Hot Topic, you ready to talk about what happened?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t talk to me like that,” Korekiyo mumbled, letting his head thunk against the window. “I ruined my only chance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From what I recall from drama practices, that is not your jacket, is it?” Keebo leaned forward over the shoulder of the seat, and he recoiled when Korekiyo immediately broke and started crying again. He was certain that he had mascara running down his face now, but he couldn’t wipe his eyes on anything without severely staining it. He couldn’t see hardly anything, but from what he could, Miu looked completely unbothered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know, he should make your dick hard, not your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miu!” Keebo protested through clenched teeth. “Not the time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut it, I’m fuckin’ talking here! Anyway, Shinguji, he broke your heart, we break somethin’ of his right back. Now, I’m not usually one for revenge fucking, but I’m down to take one for the team. If I do it properly, you can actually break a guy’s dick, and-” that’s when Korekiyo drowned her out in favor of hyperventilating. He didn’t really know what the problem was; none of this was really out of the ordinary for Miu to say, but for some reason, he just couldn’t take it right now. She kept talking, likely assuming that she was somehow helping the situation as she pulled into an unfamiliar driveway and parked the car, turning to Korekiyo and huffing. “Hey, Edgar Allen Hoe, are you even listening to me? I don’t know how to deal with all this emotional shit, c’mon, stop cryin’!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-Are you not taking me home?” Korekiyo managed to ask, hugging himself tightly. He had pressed himself as close to the window as he possibly could, and Miu was starting to look frustrated, even uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t give me an address! I’m a lotta things- sexy, gorgeous, intelligent- but I’m not a mind reader!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsumugi stuck her head between them from the backseat. “Would this conversation be better had inside? I can give you my Netflix login, we could watch something-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nobody wants your fangirl bullshit, Tsumugi!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Shirogane,” he struggled to get the sentence out, but Miu flinched when Korekiyo contradicted her. He got out of the car, leaving the other three there to follow him to the door. Miu ran up behind him, unlocking the door with the hand not holding the milkshake, and led Korekiyo inside. Keebo and Tsumugi followed behind, but Keebo was a bit more hesitant to step in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miu, your parents aren’t home, are they?” he barely put one foot inside, but he started to slip off his shoes. He tried to peer around the doorways, looking through the darkness of what appeared to be Miu’s dining room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Duh-doy! I wouldn’t bring the makings of a perfectly good orgy to my house if my parents were home!” She led them up the stairs and to her room, letting them in first. The light shining from inside was hot pink, and Korekiyo could feel himself getting nauseous just looking in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell me that we are not here for something of that persuasion, that’s what was making me feel like this to begin with,” he mumbled; the statement was directed at Miu, but he didn’t really care if he heard her by this point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, if you guys don’t wanna, we can settle for something else, I guess,” once everyone else had walked in, she ran in, slammed the door behind her, continued running towards Keebo, and jumped. He had set down his ice cream on Miu’s dresser already, but he dropped his phone in order to catch the girl, panic on his face until Miu was securely in his arms. He sighed, carrying her to an overstuffed bean bag in the corner of the room and sitting down with her. Tsumugi joined them shortly thereafter, letting Miu rest her legs across her lap as she put her head on Keebo’s shoulder. Korekiyo settled on sitting between the legs of an oversized teddy bear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miu’s room was much larger than he had been expecting, but it was also quite crowded. He noticed when he walked in that the bear he was leaning on had many more stuffed animals piled up behind it, plus some on the bed in lieu of pillows. She had a massive, unmade canopy bed with thin curtains hanging all around it, and her dresser was covered in makeup and trinkets with a TV in the middle of it all. The only current lighting in the room were light strips, currently set to the dark pink Korekiyo had seen earlier. Her desk was littered with pieces of machines, and various prototypes sat all around the room, all in various stages of being built. It wasn’t very comforting, not by a long shot, but it was what he had right now. Tsumugi frowned when she noticed Korekiyo’s choice of seating and his wandering eyes. “You can come sit with us, if you want to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather not,” he could hear just how exhausted he sounded. He didn’t cry often, only sometimes when Sister was truly mad at him, but he was now seeing just how much truly sobbing took out of a person. “I believe you mentioned Netflix, though. I’m not sure how the system works, would you mind turning on some sort of history documentary?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsumugi nodded, grabbing the remote from nearby and turning on the TV. She turned on, as requested, some sort of history documentary, and he turned his full attention to it. Even though he couldn’t truly focus on it, it was nice to have the distraction. It went in one ear and right out the other, but for now, just while he calmed down, it was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It must have been at least fifteen minutes before he considered himself stable enough to actually say something. Miu was making the occasional lewd comment about the documentary, and Keebo was damn near asleep underneath her. He considered momentarily that this may just be what normal friends do, but it’s not like it mattered. These weren’t really his friends anyway. “Would you all mind if I began?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miu jumped, her arms flying around Keebo’s neck and yanking the boy down. “Shit, don’t scare me like that! Go ahead, fuck, I don’t know how to deal with the mopiness. The date went bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How kind of you, Iruma. No, actually, the date went fantastic,” he sighed, falling back into the plush comfort of the bear behind him. “Ice skating was lovely, I was quite fond of his assistance and his touch, and we ended up having to run to his car when his parents coincidentally arrived. We talked- he opened up to me, actually- and he gave me his jacket. We ended up kissing, and when he pulled away, I thought about something Sister had said to me earlier this week, and I panicked, and I ran. I’ve stolen his jacket, I’ve likely hurt his feelings, and I’ve betrayed what Sister asked of me. Rarely do I feel this much guilt, but I feel like I’m going to have someone furious with me either way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room fell dead silent for a few seconds. Korekiyo was worried that he had accidentally stepped over a line, but then Keebo awkwardly interjected with, “Hey, how does kissing a guy betray your sister?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should never love another thing in this universe more than I love her. That’s what she asked of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Tsumugi frowned. “That sounds quite manipulative, sort of like-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shirogane, as much as I appreciate your references, as they help me gain a better understanding of pop culture, I would prefer if you did not do such in regards to Sister. In fact, I would prefer if you didn’t talk badly about her at all; she’s quite ill, the least I can do is make sure that I don’t disappoint her while she recovers.” Tsumugi nodded, pursing her lips and sitting back on the beanbag a bit further. Both her and Keebo had gone silent, and after a moment, Miu sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, this is gonna be my job to handle, isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes as she turned to Korekiyo, settling herself dead center on Keebo’s lap. “Mmkay, first of all, you’re sexier than whatever sister complex you have going on here. I promise you that you can pull better bitches than someone from the same womb as you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never said I was-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, stop talking, I’m giving you advice. Second, I don’t give a flying fuck if you never talk to this dude again, dick’s replaceable, but you do have to give his jacket back eventually. Don’t lie to him or anything, then you’re the ass, but bam, you have a chance to talk to him at least one more time. Apologize, explain yourself, do whatever. He probably won’t be mad at you or anythin’,” with that, she rolled right back over and put her head back on Keebo’s chest. “Don’t say I never gave you anything. I’m not going out driving again tonight, so you can stay here with us and fix your fuckin’ messy ass life tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was… shockingly sound advice, Iruma,” Korekiyo was frowning behind his mask, not too pleased with the first part of Miu’s tirade, but the second part may have been the most insightful thing she had ever said to him. “I appreciate the offer, and I may need to take you up on that. Do you have any sort of pajamas that I could use?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miu reached into a laundry basket beside the bean bag, hopefully clean, and tossed him a long sleeved shirt and long pants. The shirt looked like it buttoned, and they were pink with darker pink stripes running down them. Korekiyo paused for a moment, just staring at them, and Miu snickered to himself. “What, perv? Expecting my panties or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not in the slightest, thank you for your hospitality,” he said hurriedly, standing up and heading immediately to the bathroom attached to Miu’s room. As he left, he could hear her whining on the other side of the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-Oh, come on! You don’t have to phrase it l-like that! Am I not good enough for you?” her tone was almost whiny, appalled, but a hushed comment from Keebo quickly shut her up. Once pleased with the silence, Korekiyo began dressing himself. Miu was about six inches shorter than him, and he was mostly leg to begin with, so the pants, as expected, were a bit short on him. The top, on the other hand, was the opposite. He assumed it was meant to be flowy, but the amount of chest he could see was ridiculous. He couldn’t see how Miu could be fine with wearing something like this at all, especially not with people around. A bit self conscious, but still protected by his mask, Korekiyo returned to Miu’s room. He must have taken longer than he thought, because when he returned to the room, the lights had been dimmed to a low, warm, yellow glow, and Keebo, Miu, and Tsumugi had all piled into Miu’s bed. Keebo looked asleep already, and Miu was snoring loudly, but Tsumugi looked like she was still trying. She gave him a little wave, and he waved back, and she rolled over, turning her back to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the bear he had previously been cuddling with, Korekiyo took notice of a phone charger in his phone’s model. He was too tired to wait for it to recharge, but Miu’s considerateness didn’t go unnoticed. He plugged his phone in, dropping his clothes beside it, and, assuming she wouldn’t care, laid down on Miu’s bean bag. A blanket had been left down beside it, and he pulled it over himself, bundling up in his hands. He had to curl up into a ball to fully fit on the bean bag, but he was the burden here. He had no right to complain, really. He yawned, shutting his eyes, and as he drifted off, he managed to escape from everything, just for a second, to the feeling of soft lips on his and a warm, comforting arm around his hip before falling into a dreamless sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm highly considering writing Keebo/Miu/Tsumugi. Thoughts or suggestions?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Where in hell did he go wrong?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro had been on bad dates before. He could admit that, despite how he seemed, he wasn’t always perfect and charismatic like some people perceived him. He had really, really tried this time, though; he thought the date had gone fantastically, even with his parents showing up midway through. Out of all of the dates he had been on, out of all the people who had been interested in him in the past, this was the one he really wanted to work out, and he couldn’t for the life of him tell where he had gone wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was mentally kicking himself on the drive home for not running after him. He didn’t really care that Korekiyo had taken his jacket with him, it could always be replaced, but if they had just talked about what was wrong, they could still be together right now. Thinking about the anxiety on Korekiyo’s face when he pulled away was completely heartbreaking, and he was so pissed with himself for making that happen, no matter his actual level of involvement in it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He got home quicker than expected, storming through the dark house and straight up to his bedroom. He dropped all of his things by the door, save for his phone, and collapsed face first right onto the bed. He groaned loudly once he hit the blankets, balling them up in his fists and just laying there for a good minute. He was frustrated, he was upset, and he couldn’t do jack shit about it now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he was done, Rantaro sat back up, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He sent two texts, the first going to Korekiyo and the other going to Maki, Kirumi, and Ryoma. ‘Hey, I’m sorry for what I did. Can we please meet up again so I can apologize?’ he stared at the message for a moment once he pressed send, only to notice that it didn’t deliver. He better not have left Korekiyo without a phone to call someone. With that thought, he suddenly felt a hell of a lot worse as he texted his group chat. ‘Heyyy guys could we hop on a video call? I’m having a minor crisis.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He received one message back from Maki. ‘smh im busy,’ was all she said. Regardless, in the next minute or so, he watched as Ryoma, Kirumi, and Maki all got on the call, and he joined right after. When he got in, he could see that Kirumi was cooking something, her phone strategically set up above her counter, and Maki was currently with someone else that Rantaro couldn’t make out. Their head was cut off, but Maki was leaning against them, their arm wrapped around her waist, both of them having a controller in their hands, and Maki was wearing a way oversized NASA hoodie. Ryoma… well, Rantaro couldn’t see Ryoma. He could vaguely hear white noise coming from his end, but his camera was facing up towards the ceiling in what appeared to be a very dimly lit room. He took a moment to set up his camera on his pillows, taking a deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I fucked up, you guys!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maki glanced over at the camera for just a moment, then back at her game. “You don’t have to pause for dramatic effect or anything, You can just keep talking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am quite curious about how you managed to scare off Korekiyo of all people. I’ve found that he’s quite resilient to most things. However, I’m most concerned about you. Is everything alright, Rantaro, and may I be of service to you in any way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rantaro was about to answer when the other person on Maki’s end lowered down in view of the camera. He didn’t know who he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t Kaito. They were in about half of the same classes as one another, and he never would have thought that Maki of all people would put up with him. “Hey, hold on a sec, you’re dating Shinguji?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, that’s the problem! Why are you and Maki hanging out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Date night. Maki Roll was in a bad mood, so I picked her up so we could cuddle,” he smiled, putting his chin on Maki’s shoulder, and the girl puffed her cheeks out and kept her focus on the game. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good for you guys! Anyway, I kissed him and he ran away.” Rantaro clasped his hands together, and Kaito frowned before moving back out of view.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s pretty rough, man. Sorry about that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you just a bad kisser?” Maki deadpanned. Kirumi gasped, turning to the camera in shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maki! Don’t be rude, he came to us asking for help! Now, Rantaro, please continue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s… pretty much it. My parents showed up, we ran to my car, we talked for a minute, we kissed and he booked it with my jacket. I don’t even give a shit about the jacket, I just can’t get ahold of him and I’m worried about him.” Rantaro sighed, flopping back onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m mad at him or anything, and I kinda hope he still wants to see me. I have a ticket to the play, but I don’t know if I should use it now…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’d understand if you didn’t, especially if you’re reacting like this. He tends to be fairly level headed-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah. He probably thinks you’re pissed at him,” Ryoma finally broke his silence, his mic a bit crackly as he spoke. “It’s a nice thought, Kirumi, but not very realistic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah. You are here, then. I’d like to think I know Korekiyo fairly well, but maybe it’s what I assumed Rantaro needed to hear right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, whatever,” there was a brief shuffling, and Ryoma started again. “Anyway, he probably feels shitty for it, whatever it is. My money’s on family problems. Go to the show, get your jacket back, talk to him. It’ll probably help show him that you’re not mad, or something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s… probably what I’ll end up doing, yeah,” Rantaro sighed again, sitting back up. Ryoma still wasn’t in view of the camera. “Pretty good advice. Have you dated people before?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“You’re welcome. Don’t ask about my personal life,” he replied curtly, immediately leaving the call right after. </span> <span>Rantaro chuckled. He still felt like shit, but at least he had a plan of action now.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that sound good to you guys? Do you think he’ll accept it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Can I leave now? We were trying to mine before you showed up,” Maki barely waited for Rantaro to nod before leaving the call as well, leaving Kirumi and Rantaro alone. The girl was silent for a moment, wiping her hands off on her apron.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I would be careful with him, but I think what Ryoma suggested should work. I have no idea what his home life is like, but I’m sure there’s a reason he ran away like that. Do you need anything else from me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope. I still kinda feel like a jackass for… well, shit, I don’t know what I did, but it must have been bad to warrant that kind of reaction…” he looked down at his hands, momentarily remembering how Korekiyo’s felt. Even with the gloves, they were cold and thin, but when he held them, Rantaro felt like they just… belonged there, somehow. “...I really like him, Kirumi. I don’t want to hurt him at all, and I feel like I’ve already fucked up my chance somehow. I hope he isn’t like, blaming himself for this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see,” Kirumi pursed her lips, setting the food she was making aside. “I think all will end up some degree of okay. If they don’t, then I am willing to assist you in making them so. Please do not blame yourself, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m trying not to,” he reached forward, picking up his phone. “I’ll leave you alone now. Thanks for being here, Kirumi, have a nice night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you as well.” With that, Rantaro hung up, staring blankly at the screen for a moment. He switched over to Korekiyo’s contact, only to see that his earlier text message had finally sent. Korekiyo hadn’t replied, nor had he read it, but Rantaro wasn’t blocked, and Korekiyo’s phone was working. A bit more relieved now, Rantaro sent him another text.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>‘I should clarify that I’m not mad at you. Goodnight, see you tomorrow.’ He wanted to say so much more, to ask what had happened and get some sort of closure on the situation, but he knew it wasn’t the time. Leaving his phone on the bed, he left his room, showered, and got some homework done, only to be sorely disappointed when he came back and saw that Korekiyo still hadn’t read the text. It was getting to be pretty late, he might be asleep, but something awful in the back of his head was persistently nagging Rantaro that Korekiyo was just ignoring him. He probably had every right to, but that didn’t make him feel any better. He plugged his phone in, falling right into bed. So many emotions were going through him right now, and he didn’t know what to do with any of them. He didn’t even pull a blanket over himself; the second his head hit the pillow, Rantaro was out, almost too keen to just lay down, fall asleep, and forget his guilt for a few fleeting hours. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The morning was just as grey and dreary as the day before. Korekiyo had woken up fairly early and made everyone in the house food as an apology for his intrusion, but whenever he said that, his acquaintances all seemed a little displeased with him. He must have done something wrong, he concluded, but Miu kept dodging the question when he asked. Speaking of Miu, she drove the four of them to school, arriving far too late for Korekiyo’s comfort and driving much too recklessly through the snow. For the entire drive, she was complaining about how dangerous it was for them to be going to school in snow like this and how she could build a snow plow better than whatever was cleaning the roads now in her sleep. It had gotten a lot worse, several inches of snow accumulating on the ground over the course of the night, and Korekiyo almost agreed with her until Keebo pointed out that the show wouldn’t happen if they couldn’t go to school.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right. The show. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day had gone well enough until he got to practice. As he listened to the actors practice, he couldn’t help but start feeling thoroughly sick to his stomach. Such talk of romance and star-crossed lovers kept apart by their families suddenly hit a little too close to home, but his ‘Romeo’ was likely not coming for him at the end of the day. Korekiyo hadn’t turned his phone on that morning, despite it being fully charged now. On top of being terrified of what Sister had to say to him, he was almost equally as scared to see how disappointed Rantaro was with him. Disappointment may not be the right emotion, but then again, he wasn’t sure. He had created dozens of scenarios in his head of how Rantaro would react when he came to retrieve his jacket, whenever that was. As of now, Korekiyo was still wearing it. If anyone had noticed over the course of the day that it was Rantaro’s, they didn’t say anything about it. Korekiyo felt as if it added to the slight embarrassment of his own picture: wrinkled clothing, a jacket that didn’t match, somewhat greasier hair than normal from a lack of showering, and slight mascara stains on his lower lashline all graced his body as he went about his day. He was messy, he was tired, he was aggravated, and his all-consuming distraction was no longer distracting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo stood above the stage now, watching from the catwalk as Momota, Saihara, and Oma went through their scene. Momota was way too dramatic, as per usual, but Korekiyo had stopped trying to correct him by now. It was befitting enough of his character that he could live with it, and he made a good contrast to Saihara’s more level headed Benvolio. Right now, though, it was Oma who he was worried about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t know if Kokichi was trying to start some sort of dick measuring contest or what, but he was acting completely out of turn today, even for him. Romeo was dramatic, sure, his death showed that much, but Kokichi was going much farther than he ever had in portraying that. He was so close to stepping off of his blocking, time and time again getting just too close to the edge of the stage, but never quite falling. It was irking Korekiyo, but not enough to say anything. He had told the actors countless times at the beginning of practice that the day of the show was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the time to change things, nor should they during the performance, but he guessed he would have to reiterate that to Oma at the end of practice. He continued to watch idly, subconsciously keeping track of each time he got too close to the edge, about to add another one as Kokichi did his back and forth with Kaito, but Korekiyo noticed a second too late that Kokichi’s foot had gone right over the edge. So confident with himself, Oma fell right off the stage before Korekiyo could even gasp, clattering into some of the additional chairs that had yet to be set out below.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next few seconds were chaos. There was one that was just a pause, silence, but Kokichi starting to bawl at the top of his lungs was what started it. Shuichi, being the closest to the edge, ran to it, hopped down, and immediately pulled Kokichi out of it and over to one of the auditorium seats. Korekiyo rushed down to the ground floor, keeping an eye on the both of them as he did. Kokichi was absolute dead weight on Saihara’s shoulder, allowing himself to be dumped right into the chair. By the time he managed to get down to them, a good portion of the cast had all crowded around, and Korekiyo had to push through them to get to him. “Oma, what happened there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I FELL!” Kokichi wailed, one of his legs sticking out in front of him. “I th-think I broke my fffucking ankle!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, dear, that’s bad…” he went to touch Kokichi’s ankle, but paused, electing to take a step back and nudge Shuichi back towards the smaller boy instead. Shuichi stumbled a bit, frowning over his shoulder at Korekiyo before getting down to check Kokichi’s ankle. “Do you think you’ll still be able to perform?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kokichi jerked his ankle away the moment Shuichi tried to touch it, looking more angry than upset for a moment. Realizing his mistake, he looked up at Korekiyo, bottom lip quivering, and he shook his head. “I’m… I’m….” he started wailing all over again, throwing his head back quite dramatically. “I’M SORRY!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo sighed, a pit dropping in his stomach. All this work, only for it to go to waste. “And who’s Kokichi’s understudy again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We picked one out, but he never showed up to practice,” Tsumugi peered over Korekiyo’s shoulder, trying to get a better look at Kokichi. “I got his measurements and everything, but he never came in, so I couldn’t make the alterations we need.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha! Loser was probably bitter because he thought he wasn’t going to get to be in the show. Bet he’s kicking himself now!” Miu cackled from farther back in the crowd, then shoved her way up towards the front. “Anyway, Shinguji, you should just take it. Kokichi’s broken as hell, and you know all the lines.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” Korekiyo’s worry was suddenly broken by a much more urgent, insistent panic. “Yes, I know the performance from front to back, but-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kokichi stopped crying immediately. He was completely back to normal, just for a second, the tears drying up instantly. He didn’t even sound like he had been crying. “Oh, yeah, Shinguji takes my place and Shuichi can drive me home.” At that moment, Shuichi grabbed Kokichi’s ankle, and Kokichi started bawling all over again, resuming like he had never stopped. The taller boy looked a bit distressed, holding Kokichi’s ankle as he turned back to the group.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guys, I think he’s faking.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shuichi!” Tsumugi gasped, nudging past Korekiyo so hard that he just about fell over. “He’s clearly in pain, you shouldn’t say stuff like that at a time like this!” A murmur of agreement rippled over the crowd, and Shuichi sighed, getting up off the floor and dusting his pants off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll go get a wheelchair,” he stuck his hands in his pockets, and with that, he hurried out of the auditorium. Korekiyo was still too stunned to do much of anything, right up until Tsumugi put a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see the girl holding a tape measure with a determined smile on her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright! Now, if I measure you, I can alter the secondary costume to fit you by the time of the show. Hold your arms out for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shirogane, by no means do I want this, I cannot act to save my life,” Korekiyo protested, taking a step back only to fall right into Miu’s arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bullshit! You’re practically Shakespeare himself with the way you talk like you fuck dictionaries, or somethin’!” Miu laughed at her own joke, as per the usual, but Korekiyo just started sweating. He looked over at Kaede, who had settled on the floor next to Kokichi to keep him company. She was trying to examine his ankle, but the boy was just glaring at her. Regardless, neither of them were going to help as Miu manhandled Korekiyo into whatever position Tsumugi needed him in. He told her that he could move on his own, that he didn’t see any other choice but cooperation by this point, but she didn’t back off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tsumugi was done by the time Shuichi came back with the wheelchair, Tsumugi had finished her measurements, and Korekiyo was still standing by Kaede and Kokichi, just stalling until he was inevitably called back to the stage. Kokichi’s crying had faded to whimpers now, and Kaede perked up as Shuichi walked over. Was this how actors felt all the time? This feeling was abhorrent, and Korekiyo was internally swearing to himself that he would kill Kokichi if he didn’t die of a heart attack before the end of the night-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kokichi, I can’t drive you,” Shuichi said as Kaede helped Kokichi into the wheelchair. Kokichi gasped, falling right into the seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’m injured! It’s an emergency!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know it is, I’m sorry, I’ll help you carry your books tomorrow or something, but I have other stuff I have to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll drive him,” the words left Korekiyo’s lips before he even knew what he was saying. “I have plenty of experience getting someone in a wheelchair into a car. I don’t have my license, but I can excuse it in a case of emergency. It’s just up to the hospital, I know how to get there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shuichi blinked, and Kokichi’s jaw dropped. “Uh… thanks, Shinguji. I think we’ll probably need you to practice, though, so be back soon, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I’ll give the utmost haste, I assure you.” Not letting Kokichi get a word in on the matter, Korekiyo grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and started off. As he walked away, he heard Kaede start up a much more lighthearted conversation with Shuichi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know, it’s a shame you don’t know Romeo’s part. We could have been super cute up there!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard Shuichi chuckle awkwardly. He was only here for her, Korekiyo knew that much, but the puppy love sickened him to his core right now, and he barely heard Shuichi’s response as he sped up towards the door. “It’s a nice thought…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the cold air as he kept wheeling Kokichi towards his car. Begrudgingly, Kokichi unlocked the doors, and Korekiyo helped him into the passenger seat before getting in the driver’s side. He had to make quite the adjustment before he could comfortably fit in, and it took a minute before Kokichi gave him the address he was supposed to go to, but he eventually got it to the proper position and drove off. He wasn’t an amazing driver, but he would get them there. Kokichi was pouting, facing towards the window. “Oma, is there an issue?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Your face is stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, that’s quite immature. Could we please actually discuss the issue at hand here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The issue, Ko-re-ki-yo,” Kokichi snapped, stretching out each syllable in his name as he looked over at him, “is that Shuichi isn’t driving me home right now, and you’re in my car.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was under the impression that you and Saihara had a sort of rivalry, am I wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Rivalry?” Kokichi tilted his head to the side. He couldn’t completely tell, too scared to take his eyes off the road, but Kokichi looked almost bored. “I wouldn’t say we have a rivalry. I don’t hate him. We’re not competing for anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Korekiyo raised an eyebrow. “It would certainly be bitter irony if you, Romeo, fell for the fair Juliet, Kaede, all while her and Shuichi are dating, would it not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess that would be pretty ironic, huh? Good thing that’s not what happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? ...Would you care to elaborate further?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kokichi sighed, and he stayed silent for a few moments. Korekiyo thought he wasn’t going to answer until he finally spoke up again. “...Have you ever looked at someone and just wanted their attention really, really badly? So badly it’s kind of dumb?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can relate to that sentiment, unfortunately.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I haven’t. That’s super lame of you,” Kokichi snickered to himself, pulling himself into a tight ball in his seat. “...I think if I did, though, I’d want Shuichi’s attention. He’s not always boring, he’s just kind of boring in the way that a different me would want to squish his face, maybe behave for him so he could be proud of me. Or something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see. It’s not Kaede you’ve fallen for, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never said I fell for anyone. Don’t put words in my mouth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right. My sincerest apologies,” Korekiyo gave a curt nod, keeping his eyes on the road. “Although… he may respond better if you just tell him outright. With your behavior, he likely sees you as somewhat of an annoyance, especially with today’s performance. I’m not saying he’ll reciprocate, as he is still dating Kaede, but perhaps you can get a friendship out of the ordeal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never said I fell off the stage for Shuichi’s attention.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never said you did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touche,” he watched out of the corner of his eye as Kokichi stretched his bad leg out again. “I think you need some serious attention too, though. I masterminded something for you, you can thank me later. Congratulations, Romeo.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo pulled up in front of what appeared to be a warehouse, and he slowly turned to Kokichi. Kokichi wasn’t looking at him, but he was smirking like he knew something Korekiyo didn’t. “You don’t mean-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I don’t! Maybe everything I’ve said on this car ride was a lie!” he giggled to himself, snatching his keys out of the ignition and hopping out of the car. He flexed his foot experimentally. “I’ll be fine for the show tomorrow, by the way, but today? Oof, ouch, I can’t. Sorry about that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oma!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have fun!” Kokichi gave Korekiyo one last shit-eating grin before running inside completely uninhibited. With no keys, Korekiyo now had no way of driving himself back, even if this wasn’t his car to begin with. He didn’t know what to be more shocked about at the moment, the fact that Kokichi of all people had managed to set him up or that he may have just willingly offered information to Korekiyo. It might not have been true, but with his tone of voice, that may have been the most honest he had ever seen the boy. Regardless, he realized he couldn’t be concerned about it. He was only assuming that whatever Kokichi did wasn’t going to screw him over in the long run, but for now, he had to get back in time for the show. He hopped out of the car, and, with renewed determination and vigor, a new urgent topic on his mind, Korekiyo hurried right back off to the auditorium to replace Kokichi in what was going to be his debut and final performance.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The rush of the day was electrifying. Afternoon bled into evening, and seven o’clock came much quicker than anticipated. Korekiyo had virtually no time to truly practice, instead reciting his lines to Tsumugi as she did alterations on the costume. It almost fit perfectly, but he was still a bit thin to pull it off until she brought the waistline in. She was really no help in easing his nerves; he knew how to say the lines, and he knew what they were. They flowed from his tongue with ease, and she wasn’t staring at him as he spoke, which made the most welcoming environment he could have asked for in such a stressful situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While the new prospect was nauseating, overtaking all of his previous anxieties, he couldn’t just abandon his duties as stage manager. The second Tsumugi was done with his costume, he walked right back onto the stage with it and started directing the remaining pieces into place. He helped Angie set up several props with the cast before shooing everyone offstage in order to get their own costumes and makeup on. The curtain was down, but he could hear people slowly starting to filter in through the auditorium doors by the time he was finally ready to head back and do his own makeup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo settled down in front of a vanity in the room where the crew set their things. It was the only empty one, and the only one he really felt comfortable taking his mask off in. Gently setting it on the table beside him, right on top of the black sweater and pants he had brought to wear initially, he pulled the makeup bag he normally reserved for emergencies from his backpack. Sister had taught him the basics of makeup years ago, and it had just sort of stuck from there. There was a difference in what he had to do for the stage, though; that much was learned from Tsumugi. Eyebrows a bit darker than normal, eyeliner a bit longer, powder a bit cakier- it would all end up blurring together at the back of the auditorium, but he did it all in hopes that it would end up assisting in living up to the role that Kokichi had left behind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reaching into his bag one last time, mere minutes before the show was to begin, Korekiyo’s fingers grazed a tube of lipstick. Carefully, he pulled it out, uncapping it and realizing just how worn and old it was. This was the one he carried for his entire middle and high school career, all for her sake. He didn’t check, but there was a decent chance that it had expired, and he still hadn’t run out or gotten a replacement. Usually, Miyadera applied it for him in the mornings with a different lipstick, brighter red than this one, but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. Miyadera wasn’t here. He dropped the tube back in the bag with no small amount of pain. He loved her, he really did, and he wanted to make her proud, but he had to force himself to understand at this moment that her image in his mind the entire show would just complicate this further. It wasn’t the lipstick he minded, that could be as much his as it was hers, but tonight, he would entertain his own free will and worry about the consequences later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It made him incredibly anxious to go against one of the few things she asked of him. Slipping on his mask, he reassured himself that all would be well. This shouldn’t add to the pile; Miyadera had never managed to make it to the shows previously, and there was no reason why she would now. She had decided in previous years that if Korekiyo wasn’t performing, then there was no reason for her to put her body under the stress to come watch. It was disheartening at first, but now, minutes before his first real show, he knew that he wouldn’t be disappointing her if he messed up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second he stepped out of the dressing room, Keebo was running up to him with tape and a mic pack. “Geez, there you are! Please remove your mask so I can get the mic properly attached.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does my mask have to do with the mic?” Korekiyo’s hand quickly flew up over his mouth, holding the fabric to his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The audio quality won’t be as good, Miu and I have been optimizing this for months. If you’d rather keep it on, I suppose you’re the stage manager, but-” before Keebo could go any further, in the spur of the moment and the adrenaline of the evening, he removed it. He carefully tucked it away into his front pocket, just in case of emergencies, and Keebo stopped for a second. “...For some reason, I did not plan on you actually having a mouth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Poor object permanence, then?” Korekiyo kept his face completely neutral as Keebo attached the mic pack and the tape, and the tech frowned, but nodded. He wasn’t pleased on having someone this close to him, nor did he like the contact, but it was brief, and the second he was done, Keebo let Korekiyo go, and Korekiyo took his usual place outside of the curtain, watching as Tsumugi walked out to deliver the message that he would normally take care of. Everyone seemed to be in their places already, cast included, and backstage had fallen almost silent. There was a certain nervousness that Korekiyo had never been able to take part in until now across the lot of them, and Korekiyo could hardly stand it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would say break a leg, but that just so happens to be what got me into this mess in the first place, now, isn’t it?” to his shock, he earned a few light chuckles, and a smile spread across his face before turning back to watch Tsumugi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” she began. “I would like to welcome you all tonight to our winter performance of Romeo and Juliet! We have been working on this for months, and we love what has come out of it. There is one alteration to our cast tonight; Romeo will be played by Korekiyo Shinguji, our stage director, as Kokichi Oma has had an accident. We are all hoping for his speedy recovery, but even with this, we have been doing our best to make sure that this show is an enjoyable experience for all! Thank you for coming, and enjoy the show!” Korekiyo was almost surprised with just how well spoken Tsumugi was, but he didn’t really have time to say it. The second she walked back, the chorus hurried out onto stage in order to start the prologue, and the entirety of backstage fell quiet with the click of Tsumugi’s heels on the floor fading out. The second the chorus began speaking, the play had officially begun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo never really knew what acting would be like. He claimed that he wasn’t cut out for him, but that was mostly due to his own anxieties, not any actual experience on the stage. However, something overcame him the second he stepped foot into the first scene. It may have been confidence, maybe adrenaline, but whatever it was, it was pushing him. Not once did he stutter, miss a line, or miss a step in the blocking. He had poured his heart and soul into this show just as much as the rest of the cast, and he was going to make it perfect. It went down like a dream; the flow and progression was perfect, the props all stayed together, and as far as Korekiyo could tell, there wasn’t a single problem with the performance. He could have practiced a thousand times, and he was convinced at this moment that he could not have done any better. It might have, he later realized, been that he wasn’t looking too closely at the audience as he spoke. He looked out to them, yes, he spoke at them, but he didn’t try to make out faces. He was acutely aware of their eyes on him, of the discomfort of air on his face, but if he didn’t look at them, he couldn’t bring himself to care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until the very end of the show that he finally did survey the audience. Romeo’s final monologue was going perfectly, the prop for the vial of poison fitting perfectly between his fingers, and as he stood back up from kissing the ‘dead’ Juliet, he managed to lock eyes with someone particular in the audience. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, in the very front row of the audience, sat Rantaro Amami. He looked absolutely starstruck, eyes wide, lips slightly parted as he watched Korekiyo perform. He had expected rage, disappointment, but certainly not… oh, he couldn’t say love, not now, not as he was dying for it right on stage. The nerves that had diminished earlier suddenly surged right back, but they didn’t matter. He had so few more lines, and, Rantaro’s expression in his mind, not mad, not upset, but just </span>
  <em>
    <span>there, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he finished the show, and, just like that, he drank the poison, said his final lines, and collapsed dead onto the floor. Eyes shut, he laid there until the curtain fell and the audience began their applause. The show was over, he realized, Kaede offering him a hand to get back up. There were bows, he was sure, there always were, but he couldn’t remember doing them. He was too busy watching the audience, so close to tearing up from being so overwhelmed in the best way possible. Korekiyo caught Rantaro’s eyes as he bowed; he was already standing, clapping, but he lit up even further when Korekiyo looked at him, and, sticking two fingers in his mouth, he whistled, which may not have been the loudest thing in the room, but it was certainly the only thing he could hear by now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thus, Korekiyo’s one and only performance came to a close, the curtain falling once more on the cast all while he held innocent, lovestruck eye contact with Rantaro Amami. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>!!! HEY !!! Like earlier, this chapter also features themes of abuse.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Backstage was buzzing as everyone packed up for the night. Props were put away, people complained about their various screw-ups that the audience likely didn’t notice, and everyone congratulated one another. The second Korekiyo got backstage, he put his mask back on and started towards his things, only to run into Momota on the way there. There was a girl, Harukawa, holding his hand, a bouquet of roses in her hand. As Korekiyo tried to walk past, she shoved them into his hands. “Here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Korekiyo fumbled with them momentarily, but managed to get a hold of them. “Thank you, but may I ask why you’re giving these to me? We haven’t spoken much, have we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re not from me. Rantaro told me to give them to you, he said he’s going to wait for the crowd to die down and then come to find you. He said he wants to talk to you, and that he wants his jacket back, whatever that means.” Before Korekiyo could get a question in, Momota butted in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, are we gonna see you at the after party tonight? None of us really ate dinner, so we’re going to Denny’s.” Harukawa looked up at him, the corners of her lips downturning ever so slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why Denny’s? IHop is better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We got kicked out of IHop after the last show, we’re not welcome back there. Anyway, Shinguji, I know you haven’t really been to any of the other ones, but you should come this time. See ya there!” Korekiyo didn’t get a chance to say anything before Momota walked off, Harukawa following behind him. He sighed, heading off to his bag again with the roses cradled in one arm. They were beautiful, a deep red color that Korekiyo couldn’t help but adore. He slipped into the bathroom, changing into his normal clothes once again before taking a seat at the vanity once again. The crew came and went, and he greeted all of them by name and told them to have a nice night. More importantly, though, he was paying attention to the roses, his fingers grazing across the petals as he waited for Rantaro to arrive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It must have been a good half hour before anyone not on the staff came through. The door was continually open and shut, and he was sure that everyone was gone by the time it opened once more. He looked up, his hands falling to the stem of the bouquet. “Rantaro?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Korekiyo’s blood ran cold as Miyadera stepped into the room. He quickly set the flowers aside, rushing to pull a chair over to her, but as he got close with it, she held a hand up. He stopped in his tracks, his shoulders hunching in as he just stared at her disapproving face. She was wearing her mask and her robe, and she looked entirely exhausted behind the clear disgust. “That was quite the performance, dear Korekiyo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- Thank you. Thank you, Sister, I appreciate your approval on the matter. I was not aware that you were in attendance, you never come to the shows.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought it would be befitting to come find you, given that you couldn’t be bothered to come home last night to take care of me. Rehearsal, hm?” her eyes narrowed, and although he couldn’t see her mouth, he knew she was smiling condescendingly. “I suppose your friends gave you those red roses, then? You say you were invited on an outing, don’t come home for the evening, and you miraculously end up with an obvious symbol of love the next day? Tell me, Korekiyo, how was your date with Amami, and what else are you lying to me about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, I swear my life on it, and it wasn’t a date, it was just-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just more important than my life?” she interrupted. “More important than replying to my texts, more important than making sure you have a sister to return to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was planning on returning, but there was an incident. I couldn’t make it back in time. I didn’t ask for these roses, nor the role, nor anyone’s affections, Sister, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>forgive me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, the role,” she took a step closer to Korekiyo, and he instinctively stepped back. She scowled at him, and when she stepped closer again, he didn’t recoil, forcing himself to stay still. “I work tirelessly on your clothing, and I ask one thing of you, and you manage to do neither of those things. Mask off, clothes made by some other woman, </span>
  <em>
    <span>kissing another girl onstage, </span>
  </em>
  <span>how dare you let her put her hands on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was last minute, and the costume was already made. I was told I mustn't wear my mask onstage because of potential mic errors. I had to do that, it was in the script.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, excuses, excuses!” she snarled. She had managed to keep her posture perfect, arms folded behind her back the entire time she spoke, and it was starting to unnerve Korekiyo. “Own up to your own faults for once, Korekiyo. One of these days, you’ll ruin my life just as much as this illness does, and I wish I could see the look on your face when you do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By no means do I ever want that to happen, I promise I’ll do my best to repay you, Sister, just let me know where to begin and I’ll-” he heard it before he felt it. In a flash, Miyadera had pulled down his mask and slapped him hard right across the face. The resounding smack echoed through the room, and he stood there, stunned, as the stinging pain spread across his cheek. Not really knowing why, he felt the tears start to drip, running lines through his makeup and eyeliner certainly leaving tracks down his cheeks. It was thoughtless, more than anything, and she grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apologize,” she commanded sweetly, using one finger to tug down her own mask. She hadn’t done her makeup, save for red lipstick applied with shaky hands, and her blood red lips were curved into an almost serene smile. “You asked for my forgiveness, you wronged me; you can beg all you want, but it may be better if you just apologize. Come on, apologize to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Miyadera,” he choked on his words, but he managed to get them out as both of his hands wrapped around her wrist. “I’m so, so sorry…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What a nice sentiment,” she hummed, yanking her hand away from him. “It’s a shame I can’t forgive you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he looked down at her, thoroughly horrified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I asked that you never love another over me. You may not think that you’ve done that, but you prioritized several other people over me and my illness. You’ve disappointed me, Korekiyo, I could have died due to you abandoning me. For that reason, I can’t forgive you. In fact, I feel as though the principle of ‘an eye for an eye’ may be applicable here. You make no contributions to our apartment; I don’t need your assistance with anything other than my illness. I will be evicting you, and you best hope that you can find someone else who loves you, you miserable, traitorous little-” she had been getting louder and faster as she spoke, causing Korekiyo to shrink down until Miyadera suddenly gasped. That gasp turned into a wheeze, and Miyadera fell to the floor, completely unconscious. He collapsed right alongside her, pulling her into his arms in a panic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that moment, the door creaked open, and Korekiyo looked up, only to see Rantaro standing in the doorway. “Oh, shit. Hold on, I’ll call an ambulance,” and like that, he was out of the room again. Korekiyo picked Miyadera up with a bit of effort, carrying her to the door. The next few minutes or so were a blur. Rantaro handed him the phone shortly after he called, and the ambulance was there shortly after. As the paramedics came in, Rantaro reached over and pulled up his mask for him; Korekiyo had hardly noticed that it was still down. Rantaro stayed at his side the entire time that Miyadera was loaded onto the ambulance and while Korekiyo answered the paramedics’ questions. He was informed he wouldn’t be allowed to go, and his heart shattered at the idea of abandoning her again, but he didn’t have it in him to argue right now. Barely fifteen minutes had passed before the auditorium had fallen back into complete silence, the only two remaining being Korekiyo and Rantaro. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Carefully, Rantaro slipped his hand into Korekiyo’s and gently pulled him back inside after watching the ambulance drive away, and Korekiyo was still too out of it to really say anything. His hand hung limply in Rantaro’s as he led him over to the couch, where he managed to get a little bit of sense back. “You do not want to sit on that couch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Rantaro looked down at it, raising one eyebrow, but he elected not to ask and gently pulled Korekiyo down to sit on the rug instead. Korekiyo just cooperated, staring down at the floor. Sitting, facing him, Rantaro carefully reached forward, his fingers just shy of touching Korekiyo’s face. The taller boy flinched when they got that close, and Rantaro frowned. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Can I please see your cheek?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I suppose,” he murmured, and Rantaro took Korekiyo’s mask off. Korekiyo couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact as Rantaro looked over his face, fingers grazing over where Miyadera had hit him. He didn’t press on anything, and while Korekiyo shook a bit, he didn’t try to pull away. “How much of that did you hear?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not much. I thought I heard a smack, but I didn’t think she actually did it,” he kept his tone low and soothing, lowering his hand down to take Korekiyo’s other one as well. “It looks like she broke a blood vessel under the skin or something. For someone so sick, he sure does have quite the swing, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s never hit me before. That was the first time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Kiyo,” Rantaro frowned, squeezing his hands gently. “I’m sorry. I should have intervened sooner… I know it won’t help, but I can tell you firsthand that family shouldn’t talk to one another like that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see no reason why they wouldn’t. I wronged her, I’m sure her reaction was more than appropriate. I didn’t get anything that was unearned; I deserved it in one way or another.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t, though,” he protested, quickly realizing his mistake in raising intensity when Korekiyo tensed up. He settled right back down again, sighing softly. “Please don’t say that. That was awful, Kiyo, you deserve a lot better than that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not like it matters,” his reply was hollow, more like he was on some sort of autopilot. “She’s kicked me out of the house, and she won’t forgive me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come home with me, then.” Korekiyo froze, slowly turning his gaze up to Rantaro. The other boy was staring at him intently, but it wasn’t threatening. He looked concerned, soft. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t joke like that, Rantaro…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not kidding. You can stay with me until she forgives you, or longer, if you want. Honestly, I don’t think my parents would notice unless Kaida said something, and even if they did, I’m sure they would understand if we just explained what was going on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you not mad at me for last night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mad at you? God, no. I’m worried about you, but I like you a lot, Kiyo, I’m not mad at you at all. Why would I be mad at you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I ran away. I stole your jacket.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was worried that I scared you off more than anything, honestly. The jacket looks great on you, I was considering telling you to keep it anyway. I don’t know why you ran, we can talk about that later, but for now, just know that I was never upset with you, and we can go, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Alright. I trust you, Rantaro.” With those words, Rantaro pulled him into a tight embrace, murmuring a ‘thank you’ against Korekiyo’s shoulder. Korekiyo sat there for a moment, not quite sure how to respond, before finally melting into Rantaro’s grasp and wrapping his arms around him right back. They must have sat there like that for a few minutes; the silence was almost soothing, but Rantaro’s touch was even more so. After a little bit of sitting like that, Korekiyo felt himself being lifted into the air, and he let out a soft squeak as Rantaro picked him up. On instinct, his grip got a bit tighter, and his legs wrapped around Rantaro’s waist. “What on earth are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna carry you to my car. You’ve had a tough night, and I don’t wanna let go yet,” Rantaro replied, and he carried Korekiyo out the auditorium doors. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please be careful not to slip. Aren’t I heavy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, you feel kind of like a sack of flour. You don’t weigh that much to me,” Rantaro chuckled at the huff Korekiyo let out, letting his cheek fall against his. “Aw, hey, we’re having a good night now. Don’t change that on my behalf.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never said I wasn’t enjoying this.” Deep down, he was. He could feel the metaphorical butterflies in his stomach once again, and there was no denying the comfort he felt like this. It may be a bit of an effort on both of their parts, but if they wanted to try to forget the debacles of evenings present and past, they might as well do it hand in hand, right at one another’s side. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As Rantaro led Korekiyo into his home, Korekiyo was hit with a realization of just how awful he must have looked. His stage makeup was still a mess, and he had put on the clothes that had been in his backpack for a week, the ones that he had kept to wear backstage during the show, and he should have tried to fix his hair to some degree in the car. Rantaro seemed entirely unbothered by it, kicking his shoes off and instructing Korekiyo to do the same. He carefully set his aside, and Rantaro led him into the dining room from there. </p><p>Two people were already sitting in there, people whom Korekiyo recognized as Rantaro’s father and stepmother. The food on the table looked professionally made, but what really struck Korekiyo as odd was how late they were eating. It was nearly eleven o’clock, and they were just now sitting down for dinner. There were two additional plates at the table, one of them being empty, and the other completely untouched. Rantaro let go of Korekiyo’s hand to push the empty plate aside and pull out chairs for the both of them, completely nonchalant about bringing a stranger before his parents. Korekiyo met eyes with his father, immediately looking back down and standing perfectly still when Rantaro sat down. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Amami. My name is Korekiyo Shinguji, I am a friend of Rantaro’s from school and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance tonight.”</p><p>The two of them just stared at him for a moment, and Korekiyo opened his mouth to say more, but Rantaro took Korekiyo by the hand and gently pulled him down into the chair beside him. “Please don’t be weird. It’s been a rough night.”</p><p>“Is this the same boy that ran away from your date yesterday because you kissed him?” Rantaro’s stepmom asked, taking a sip from what was an almost comically sized glass of wine. Rantaro sighed, leaning back a bit in his chair.</p><p>“Please stop eavesdropping outside of my room, but yeah. That’s the one.”</p><p>“For clarification, I didn’t run away because he kissed me, however-”</p><p>“Rantaro, you kissed a boy?” his father interrupted, only to earn a light smack on the arm from his wife.</p><p>“Drop it. He’s old enough to make his own decisions, and look at this one!” she gestured to Korekiyo. “He’s cute! He could use a better wardrobe, but I can definitely fix that!”</p><p>“Cute enough to let him live here for a little bit?” Rantaro leaned forward onto the table, and his stepmom looked back over at him, raising an eyebrow. He took that as his cue to elaborate further. “Kiyo’s sister just kicked him out. She’ll probably let him back eventually, but for now, he kind of doesn’t have a place to stay, and I can vouch for him enough to say that he would be fine living here. Kaida’s gonna love him.”</p><p>“And how long have you known this boy?” his father cut back into the conversation, casting a cool glare to Korekiyo. Korekiyo froze, sitting stick straight in his chair.</p><p>“A week.”</p><p>“A week?!”</p><p>“Yep, that’s what I just said.”</p><p>“You can’t possibly speak on behalf of someone who you’ve known for a week. There’s always the chance that he could do something shifty, and on top of that, he’s… you know, Rantaro.”</p><p>“I think you missed the part where I said I kissed him.”</p><p>“Oh, whatever. Come on, we have the space for him,” Rantaro’s stepmom nudged her husband once more, then turned back to face the two of them. “Ignore him. Of course he can stay with us, we have more bedrooms in this place than I know what to do with, and I know you’re not the woman in the relationship, Rantaro, so it’ll be nice to have another ‘girl’ in the house, so to speak. I mean, come on, you two are already holding hands and hanging out together!”</p><p>“Neither of us are the girl in the relationship, that’s kind of the point,” Rantaro sighed, gently pushing the plate of food and the fork towards Korekiyo. As Rantaro continued to speak, they pushed the plate back and forth to one another, both refusing to take it. “We’re not dating right now, not officially, and it’s seriously just an act of good charity for a friend for now, and- I’m sorry, Kiyo, please eat something. I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I will force feed you.” Rantaro turned his attention to Korekiyo, their hands resting on either side of the plate between them.</p><p>Korekiyo blinked. “It’s your house, and the food was prepared for you, was it not? I cannot bring myself to deprive you of that.”</p><p>“I ate before I came to the show, seriously, don’t worry about it. Eat or I’ll order us food later, it’s literally no problem,” he pushed the plate back to Korekiyo, and hesitantly, he accepted it, avoiding eye contact as he started eating.</p><p><br/>“Look at that, he wouldn’t steal anything,” Rantaro’s stepmom remarked, leaning forward onto the table a bit. “You know what? You could just live here forever. I like you. Stay.”</p><p>“My apologies, ma’am, but I’m afraid I will have to go whenever Sister accepts me back. She’s quite ill, she’s in the hospital right now-”</p><p>“Yeah, and she kicked you out. If she’s so sick, the hospital can keep taking care of her. Congrats, you’re my kid now,” she slammed back the rest of the glass of wine and stood, swaying ever so slightly. “You two are freakin’ adorable, you make me feel young again. Now, mama’s gonna go watch Dance Moms and think about the bodybuilders she saw at the gym today.”</p><p>Rantaro’s father sighed, standing to follow his wife out. “Rantaro, keep him in your room until we can get another one properly set up. Kiyo, just… don’t cause any problems,” he left the room right after, and Korekiyo nodded, hand still tightly gripping Rantaro’s underneath the table. Once the both of them were gone, Rantaro chuckled softly. </p><p>“Uh… Welcome to the family, I guess?” </p><p>“Yes, I suppose that’s a way to put it,” Korekiyo pushed the plate away again, going to stand. “I’m not very hungry, where would you like me to clean this?”</p><p>“Not your job. Somebody will get it eventually, c’mon, let’s just go up to my room, you’ve gotta be kinda tired.” Without protest, Korekiyo followed Rantaro up to his bedroom, following him right inside. It was huge; Korekiyo’s entire apartment could likely fit inside Rantaro’s bedroom, and the shorter boy chuckled when he noticed how wide Korekiyo’s eyes had gotten. “Pretty cool, huh?”</p><p>“Why does one person need this much space?” Rantaro let go of Korekiyo’s hand as he walked over to the closet, leaving Korekiyo to take a seat on the bed. The bed was equally as massive, and he felt small just sitting on it.</p><p>“I dunno. I’m not complaining, though, I like the area to move. I kinda wanna be an adventurer one day, maybe this is some kinda prep for sleeping in an open field or something,” he laughed at his own joke as he tossed Korekiyo some pajamas, almost melting into a puddle on the floor when Korekiyo chuckled right along with him. “God, that’s still such a nice sound…”</p><p>“Oh, hush. You’ve already managed to get me into your room, kiss you, and meet your parents, you don’t need to try to woo me further.”</p><p>“Hey, if you fall in love with me, that isn’t on me,” Rantaro shrugged, grabbing an outfit for himself. “I’m gonna go shower real quick. Will you be fine here alone?” Korekiyo nodded, and Rantaro smiled right back. “Great. See you in a little bit.” With that, he walked off into the attached bathroom, and Korekiyo sat on the bed, waiting for his return. </p><p>He didn’t do much while Rantaro was gone. It didn’t feel right to do anything, not while sitting alone in Rantaro’s bedroom. However, a few minutes after Rantaro had left, the door opened, grabbing Korekiyo’s attention. Standing in the doorway was a little girl clutching a stuffed bear, staring at Korekiyo. “Are you Rantaro’s boyfriend?”</p><p>“It is wonderful to meet you as well.”</p><p>“I didn’t say it was nice to meet you. Are you dating my brother or not?”</p><p>“...No. Not at the moment. We’ve been on a date, and I think he’s very handsome, but we are not officially dating. Can I ask for your name?”</p><p>“Nope!” she beamed, rocking onto the balls of her feet. “If you make ‘Taro cry, I’ll make you cry too, okay?”</p><p>“That seems like a fair exchange, yes. I promise to do my best to keep your brother from crying, alright? My name is Korekiyo, by the way, and you may call me Kiyo.” </p><p>“I still didn’t ask,” she replied cheerily. “Bye, Kiyo!” The little girl quickly stepped back, shutting the door before Korekiyo could get another word in. For the most part, he brushed the interaction off entirely and waited for Rantaro to return. </p><p>Whenever Rantaro stepped out of the bathroom again, Korekiyo turned to look at him, and his face went red. He was almost reminded of when he first met Rantaro, standing with his hair dripping wet in the rain, but at least he was wearing a shirt then. Now, Rantaro was only wearing pajama pants, his towel draped over his neck. He paused in the doorway, following Korekiyo’s gaze. “Something wrong?”</p><p>“No! Heavens, no, my apologies for staring,” Korekiyo managed to tear his eyes away, looking down at the clothes in his lap instead. “Self expression is important, and this is your house. If you choose to wear less clothing during the evenings, so be it, do not stop on my account.”</p><p>“Kiyo, I just forgot a shirt,” he chuckled softly, walking over to his dresser once again and pulling one on. “I mean, I don’t have to wear a shirt if you don’t want me to, but I’m certainly fine either way. Shower’s yours.”</p><p>“A-Ah. I see. Please do whatever makes you comfortable, I will return shortly,” Korekiyo hurried into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The air was warm, the mirror still fogged up from Rantaro's shower, but he noticed a little smiley face drawn in it. He smiled right back at it, sliding down against the door momentarily before preparing for the evening. </p><p>The bathroom was no less massive than the bedroom, comparatively. It was a bit cluttered, but Korekiyo himself was guilty of that, so he had no place to judge. There was an extra toothbrush and a hairbrush left out on the counter, a sticky note next to them explaining that they were for Korekiyo, and the shower was full of different products of all sizes and brands. He looked over them, and, realizing he had no idea what they were, pulled out his phone and turned it on for the first time in almost a day now. When it finally flickered to life, he could see two texts from Rantaro, which he briefly glanced over, and dozens from Sister from the night before, which he ignored. He texted Rantaro regardless, not bothering to address the last two messages. ‘Pardon, which soaps do I use?’</p><p>Rantaro replied barely a few seconds later. ‘Literally whatever ones you want.’</p><p>‘These are yours, I do not want to run down your products if they’re in limited supply.’</p><p>‘None of them are. Do you just want me to pick for you anyway?’</p><p>‘Please.’</p><p>There was a moment of pause on Rantaro’s end, and Korekiyo started the water while he waited. A minute later, his phone dinged again. ‘Use the shampoo and the conditioner in the green bottles and the soap that’s called ‘Rose and Rainwater’ or whatever it is. You’ll know it when you see it.’</p><p>He did, in fact, know it when he saw it. It looked like it had barely been used, and it was a light blue. He tried to face away from the soaps, not really wanting to pry, but he did happen to notice that Rantaro’s favorite seemed to be a combination of vanilla and peppermint. He was done fairly quick, going about his evening routine to the best of his ability and getting dressed in the bathroom. He was thankful that Rantaro had given him something more befitting of him than Miu, although he would have to look up what Metallica was. The shirt had long sleeves, the pants were baggy to a comfortable degree, he was given socks, and once Korekiyo was dressed, mask and all, he stepped back into Rantaro’s room.</p><p>Rantaro was laying on the couch that was against one wall, scrolling through his phone with his other hand laced in his hair. He dropped his phone to his chest when he heard Korekiyo come in, looking him over and smiling serenely. “You’re not wearing gloves.”</p><p>“I’m afraid the pair I have are no longer clean, and I never usually wear them to sleep anyway,” he stood awkwardly in the doorway of the bathroom, dirty clothes folded neatly in his hands. “Where may I sleep?”</p><p>“I was thinking you could take the bed and I could take the couch. You deserve a good night of sleep, and you’re the guest.”</p><p>“But this is your room,” Korekiyo protested, frowning as he started over to his backpack. “I feel wrong taking your bed. You can have it.”</p><p>“Well, I don’t want it either. How about this, we both take the bed? It’s big enough, and I don’t mind sharing.”</p><p>“...I suppose that is a reasonable conclusion,” Korekiyo put his clothes back into his bag, then stood up to see Rantaro already climbing into one side. Carefully, he got into the other, and there was more than enough space for them to both spread out without touching one another. Regardless, Korekiyo kept his back turned and stayed close to the edge of the bed as Rantaro turned the lights off, going silent. It was Rantaro who said something, five, ten minutes later, maybe.</p><p>“Hey, Kiyo, are you asleep yet?” he murmured. He made no effort to move, laying flat on his back. </p><p>“...No. I’m making an attempt, but you understand it’s been a bit of a hard day. I’m reflecting.”</p><p>“Oh.” A pause. “Can I help? We can talk about it or I could help you try and fall asleep, if there’s a way I could do that for you.”</p><p>“Occasionally, when I have a bad day, Sister and I would push our beds together and we would sleep in closer proximity. That would usually help.” Even mentioning her left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He heard Rantaro shift behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see that Rantaro had scooted closer to the middle of the bed and opened his arms.</p><p>“C’mere. I’ve got you.” Korekiyo could barely make out Rantaro’s face in the dark, but his features became more clear as he settled down in his arms. Rantaro put his chin on top of Korekiyo’s head, and once Rantaro’s arms were comfortably around him, Korekiyo held Rantaro back in turn. This close to him now, he could feel that it wasn’t just his hands that were warm, and he really did smell like vanilla and peppermint. It was clean, comforting, and incredibly befitting of him. He could feel his heartbeat on his forehead, steady and even. He felt Rantaro’s fingers run through the ends of his hair, gently pulling out any knots that may have formed. “Do you want to talk about tonight?”</p><p>“No. Not particularly. I need a bit of time for that to process, I believe.”</p><p>“Gotcha. Can we talk about yesterday, then?”</p><p>“I don’t see why not.”</p><p>“Great,” Rantaro sighed softly, holding Korekiyo just a little bit tighter. “I think I really, really like you. Like, bad. I have no complaints about literally any of it, and that kiss was probably the best one I’ve had in my entire life.”</p><p>“Despite my inexperience?” Korekiyo’s fingers tangled themselves in the back of Rantaro’s shirt, clenching and unclenching around the fabric. </p><p>“Absolutely. I don’t think I stopped thinking about it during the entire show today… Can I ask what you thought about it?”</p><p>“...I’m inexperienced with the concept of love,” he began after a moment, listening to Rantaro release the breath he had been holding, then his heartbeat. “I haven’t had many friends, I had yet to have been on a date until yesterday. I feel as though others may have taken advantage of that experience, but you… you did not. It baffles me. You may court whoever you wish, with ease, no doubt, and it would have been so easy to manipulate me into loving you. Why didn’t you?”</p><p>“Because I’m not an asshole, and you’re not an experiment. I like you. Go ahead and keep talking.”</p><p>“I suppose that’s the simplistic answer… I think I understand the sentiment, though. At the same time, I think that you may not have needed to manipulate me to your will. In the most innocent way possible, your feelings are reciprocated, Rantaro. Your arms around me were magnificent yesterday, and I cannot help but feel safe in your embrace,” he shifted slightly in Rantaro’s grasp. “I believe myself to be a man of study, of intellect, able to focus on whatever I will myself to, and I pride myself on such. Lately, however, I find my mind a bit more jumbled, and I’m afraid the honor of sending my composed nature awry goes to you, and your smile, and your good looks, and the way you hold me, and the way you talk, and just <em> you, </em>Rantaro.”</p><p>“Then why did you run away? Do you not want this?” He paused. “Err- sorry, that sounds kinda manipulative and ultimatum-ish. I didn’t mean it like that. I seriously just want you to be comfortable, and if I can help you, I want to.”</p><p>“Do you promise not to be upset with me or Sister if I tell you?”</p><p>“...I won’t be mad at you, and I won’t voice my opinions on your sister. Is that good enough?”</p><p>“I suppose it will be. Sister asked that I never love another more than her, which normally would not be a problem. I had no desire for other companionship, but can you bring yourself to imagine how terrifying it is to feel that emotion for another after only experiencing it for one person for so many years?”</p><p>He felt Rantaro stop breathing for a moment, and when he let it out, one of his hands gently started tracing meaningless little swirls on his back. “Yeah. I guess I can. I’m sorry that happened to you, and I’m telling you that no one, especially not the people you love, should treat you like that. If you need time to heal, to work through all of that, I understand. I’ll still be here for you, okay?”</p><p>“Alright,” he murmured, shutting his eyes. “I don’t think I want to, though. It’s a difficult time, yes, but… I trust you not to hurt me in it. You make me feel safe, and I think- no. I know I want to be with you.”</p><p>“Boyfriends it is, then,” he chuckled softly, his breath warm across the top of Korekiyo’s head. “God. I just watched you perform a show about the dangers of young love at first sight, and then we decide to start dating literally hours later.”</p><p>“Mmm, we’ll figure out logistics and moral quandaries in the morning. It’s really of no importance this late at night.”</p><p>“Well, what about now, then? Anything else to air? Gonna propose to me next?” </p><p>Korekiyo chuckled, pulling away from Rantaro slightly. “I was wondering if I could get a kiss goodnight, actually. I would like to see if I can replace the previous contender for the best kiss you’ve ever had.”</p><p>In the darkness, Korekiyo could see Rantaro light up. “Of course you can, you literally don’t even have to ask. C’mere, you,” and with that, Rantaro reached forward, gently removing Korekiyo’s mask. Korekiyo didn’t try to stop him, although his breath hitched as it came off, and the second it did, Rantaro was kissing him, and Korekiyo was melting into his touch all over again.</p><p>Korekiyo had a difficult time understanding love. He wasn’t raised into it properly, although it would take him a while from this point to realize that. By no means did he understand how it was cultivated, how it was fostered; he understood that it happened, and that he was likely capable of it, but that didn’t truly seem <em> real </em>until just now. He was learning that love was soft caresses on his back, gentle words of affirmation with no ulterior motives. It was healing, it was sweet, innocent, it was clothes that weren’t his picked out particularly for him to wear, it was peppermint and vanilla and warmth and life to his cold. Most importantly, though, love was a second kiss shared between two young lovers in the dark of a bedroom, holding one another like the world would end if they let go, and love was falling asleep in one another’s embrace with no fear of what the next day may bring as long as they were just together, working towards a new reality. It was an adventure and a study of humanity in the most intimate possible way. As Korekiyo fell asleep, the goodnight kiss having turned into dozens of goodnight kisses, he guiltlessly allowed his partner’s serene, sleeping expression to fill his vision, his heart fluttering in his chest.</p><p>Love, he decided, was Rantaro Amami.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I thrive off of comments!</p><p>If you have any requests on what I should write, I would love to hear them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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